


There’s Never Enough Maggots

by acefusti138, trxshmxxth



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Birth, Graphic Violence, M/M, Neibolt Eddie, Neibolt Losers Club, Neibolt Richie, Original Character(s), Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Rough Sex, Trans Male Character, Trans!Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-24 14:38:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 60,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13215879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acefusti138/pseuds/acefusti138, https://archiveofourown.org/users/trxshmxxth/pseuds/trxshmxxth
Summary: While Pennywise sleeps, the house on Neibolt Street doesn’t lay empty. It’s awake and alive with 7 demonic little assholes. Two, in particular, don’t get enough love.Neibolt Eddie and Richie don’t get enough love. Good thing they fucking hate each other-- Until their human selves bring two innocent beings into the mix and throw both sets of the Losers Club into a dizzy mix of hate, love, and a want to protect what's important to them.They're all a lot more similar than they cared to admit.





	1. A Flesh Pocket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neibolt Eddie and Richie don’t get enough love. Good thing they fucking hate each other-- Until their human selves bring two innocent beings into the mix and throw both sets of the Losers Club into a dizzy mix of hate, love, and a want to protect what's important to them.

The house on Neibolt Street wasn’t as empty as it seemed while Pennywise slept.

Demonic echoes of his torments to the _real_ Losers were still heard loud and clear within the rickety walls and crumbling floors; the horrifying counterparts of the Losers Club still lived within the decaying house on Neibolt Street. For the whole twenty-seven years it took for Pennywise to rest, unbeknownst to the real Losers, their seven evil copycats had been growing stronger within the crumbling abode.

First was Eddie—who had taken the form of the Leper and terrified poor Richie and Bill by dissolving the floor with his acidic slime—now simply the dirted form he had appeared as in front of Bill and Richie.

Richie—originally the maggot-infested doll left within a coffin—maintained his porcelain appearance.

Bill—who had flooded his human counterpart’s basement and terrified him with the rotted corpse of Georgie—now looked just like a the real Bill, albeit it rotting and visibly waterlogged.

Ben—with his headless boy scout get-up and smoldering Easter eggs—ended up in a similar state as Eddie; he just happened to be charred from the Easter Day explosion Ben feared so much.

Bev—with her messy bloodbath—was now constantly covered in violent bruises all across her skin and dried blood soaking her hair and clothes.

Mike—who had finally gained functionality beyond a door frame with his burned, mangled corpse hands— gained a human form—albeit burned to almost lack of recognition.

And finally, Stan—who finally became recognizable after his painted woman with the flute getup dissipated and instead revealed a state similar to his human self—with raw, bleeding wounds around his face and a very easily distorted face.

They all roamed the house on Neibolt Street because, with Pennywise asleep, they had been much too weak from hunger to do any _actual_ tormenting. That didn’t mean they had sat idle and twiddled their thumbs in wait during the twenty-seven years that they had to collect energy. No; Neibolt was always full of action after the Losers Club banished Pennywise to a premature 27-year hibernation. Left to gain extra energy as seven new facets of contact to the human world, the secondary Losers Club was unfortunately just as active as the _real_ Losers Club.

Bill and Stan, often at odds with each other, debated if they were strong enough to try to leave the house. Their power struggle came at the cost of angry, heated arguments— sexual tension ran thick enough to cut with a knife within the home for almost two years before it finally boiled over into a hate-fucking rage. Mike spent most of his time trying to figure out how to awaken Pennywise sooner; researching with what little information their home provided to find the true source of what kept their creator awake longer. Without fail, he was always trying to decipher what made them all stronger or weaker— just as his human counterpart tried to figure out how to kill Pennywise once and for all. Ben and Beverly soon realized that dancing around each other wasn’t necessary. Within weeks of their human counterparts discovering the information of Richie and Eddie‘s coupling, they had followed suit. Thus, their demonic echos responded with a similar display of the one thing they really shouldn’t have been able to understand; love.

On the topic of love came the enigma that was Richie and Eddie. As the ones who’d had the most contact with their human counterparts, they ended up as the most disgusting of them all. With more emotions to go off of thanks to said interactions, they ended up as the closest in similarity to their human counterparts.

Don’t let that fool you.

...

Eddie’s constant need for sex was the only thing that ever kept him… Stable. Richie was the one left to control that aspect of things, which, luckily, he didn’t mind. He couldn’t grow tired; being made of porcelain allowed for limitless stamina and infinite regenerability. Not that it mattered in their book: they were demons. Any limit of biology or other human boundaries were thrown out the metaphorical window. They had the ability do what they pleased!

That fact, coupled with the basis of their whole being centered around the real Eddie, who loved the real Richie with all his heart, was one of the many reasons why this Eddie loved _his_ Richie. He would sew up Richie’s mouth if he grew too annoying or talkative for him to stand, and no one could stop him. Contrary to the belief that because Eddie enjoyed all of what Richie offered him, Richie had some semblance of control over the smaller demon, it was far from the truth. Eddie held all the power, and really was only as relaxed as he was because, well, he was batshit insane. Eddie had always been a terrifying little fucker; concentrated, legitimate evil who barely scraped past 5’3” on his tip-toes and still threw kicking-and-screaming temper tantrums on the floor like a toddler if he didn’t get his way. He didn’t seem so bad at first glance, just a little dirty and bratty— until you realized that he was always _just_ on the border of going off the deep end.

And yet, somehow, that alone kept Richie around. It was thrilling to the emotionless doll, despite how horridly they treated each other. After almost ten years of the odd tolerance they had formed with each other that they called a relationship, they managed to keep themselves together long enough to bring the fruits of their human counterparts happy lives together into _their_ world.

...

As Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak grew up, after that first dreadful summer that had introduced them to the unfortunate reality of the world in Derry, Maine, they had learned some things. For starters, they has stopped beating around the bush and accepted that there was absolutely no heterosexual explanation for the feelings they had for one another.

Eddie, after finally being freed from the crushing oppression of his mother, had been fully transition to the man he always knew he was. Their freshman year, free of the Bowers Gang but now clouded with raw scars of the clown that had nearly killed all of them, had been started with them hand and hand.

They had been that way ever since— Hand and hand, at each other’s side the whole time. They’d gone to college together, Richie managing to score a well-paid job as a radio-show host within Derry that had basically helped him through college where his parents had been unable to help without adding the crushing ceiling of student-loan debt on top of him. Eddie had gone to college to become an engineer, but delved into the world of fixing cars and becoming an automobile mechanic within the year after finding a disinterest in the technical aspects of being an engineer. Once they had graduated with minimal debt and a relationship almost tear years in the making, Richie had made it his goal to propose on their ninth anniversary, and had only succeeded within hours of Eddie having the same idea. They weren’t even twenty-three before they were married, barely six months after their proposal, cheeks alight with burning pink grins and simple golden bands shining on their fingers. They barely had enough money to pay for the wedding that they wanted— A small, simple one filled with their little family of friends and a giant cake that Richie had begged for for _months_ before Eddie conceded.

They were happy, and that was what mattered to them then.

And yet, not even a month after the wedding, in a small, at the time terrifying, twist of fate, Eddie had fallen pregnant.

...

Whatever the real Richie and Eddie did, their demonic selves did in the house on Neibolt Street as well.

Within hours of the twins being conceived, they had made their presence known to Eddie, who had felt the shift within the air and had grown curious. Originally, their humans selves had thought it to have just been their little girl, Lucille. But as it turned out during Eddie’s final trimester, Luci had brought along with her—known only to the mirrored Neibolt set— her surprise womb friend and younger sister, Michelle. No matter how sweet they were within the human world, they had ended up within the house on Neibolt Street, just as their parents had.

“They made kids,” Eddie blurted out suddenly that morning, looking up from where he had been laying on his mattress to instead stare at the doll next to him, “Make kids with me. Wheezy is carrying them-- I want to too.”

Richie bit back a groan of annoyance. Sure, he had felt the sudden addition of two little blips of presence join the room while he had been fixing one of his many broken dolls, destroyed courtesy of one of Eddie’s many temper tantrums, but he had planned on ignoring that fact until two babies suddenly popped up out of nowhere.

Seems Eddie didn’t share his sentiment.

“Don’t think that’s how that shit works, _dumbass_. You don’t even have a fucking womb to _hold_ them,”  
  
“Fuck you, it is _too_ how it works!” Eddie very quickly grew upset, glowering at the taller demon with a furious scowl, “I can make a womb! Just _watch_ me! If you can grow your dick back after I snap it off, then I can make a— A _flesh pocket_ for two little brats!”

Richie just scoffed in annoyance, rolling his eyes and going back to his doll repairing. Vaguely, he heard Eddie stand up, but only fully realized what that entailed for him when the smaller demon grasped harshly at his shoulders, eyes ablaze and face set in a deep frown. “What?” He snapped, putting down the doll he was holding and grunting in surprise when Eddie grabbed at his chin and tilted his head mockingly.

 _“What?”_ He crooned, his free hand reaching into his gym shorts and pulling out the thick thread and sharp needle from a small pocket that he kept specifically for sewing his boyfriend’s mouth shut. “You wanna talk bad about our babies? You can be punished for it accordingly,” He cooed, threading the needle and giggling as he began to sew the other demon’s mouth shut. Afterwards, he left the room to the crumbling attempt of a bathroom to grow himself a womb. It had taken almost no effort--only because the actual Eddie was already pregnant. Thus, all Richie had to do was put the little physical forms in Eddie, and they were good to go! As seeing the versions of the babies that Eddie was carrying weren’t the _real_ babies, Eddie could do as he pleased during the pregnancy. The kids couldn’t get hurt unless the _actual_ babies did.

Everyone’s favorite demon duo could be as fucked up and horrible to each other as they pleased, just like before.

...

Even before the pregnancy, there were far too many twisted things to list that Richie and Eddie got themselves into without a care. For one, the maggots that writhed within Richie’s bloodstream had become a favorite sex toy of Eddie’s. Once the twins had made their way into the picture, it had only grown worse.  


Eddie already feel under the definition of a disgusting little shit that craved the worst that Richie could provide. Richie, who was more than happy to treat the smaller demon the same way that his boyfriend treated him every other time of day, gladly let himself all but abuse the smaller demon without a care.

Every notion of normalcy with the pregnancy was thrown out the figurative window in lieu of letting Richie have his wicked way on the tinier demon— Eddie was _more_ than delighted to have Richie do it anyways.

It was common knowledge that very fluid that came from Eddie’s body was the gross, black, toxic stuff that dissolved the floor of the Neibolt House the day the Loser’s Club tried to play adventurer where they shouldn’t have. Even Richie’s body, having adapted to the worst of the stuff pretty early on, his ceramic skin growing a bit stronger every time he had sex with the shorter demon, was no match for the _constant_ sex drive that his now-pregnant boyfriend had. The oily slick dissolved the hardened porcelain of his body and would leave him cranky as his body was forced to heal over and over.

Eddie was only ever either asleep from exhaustion and hunger, or awake and screeching to be pounded into until he passed back out. Richie didn’t dare refuse to oblige him-- the demonic little fucker would go as far as to purposefully smear the stuff around Richie’s cock until the skin cracked if he even thought about it.

It hadn’t helped that Richie’s maggots had learned to thrive off the sweet, deadly slick that oozed out between Eddie’s thighs every time the smaller demon got horny. Any sort of liquid that Richie’s body possessed was infested with the small insects, so whenever he came, they all came flooding out too. That fact was what provided the feeling that Eddie so _desperately_ craved. He _loved_ taking load after load from his boyfriend; Richie’s cum was where they came out the most. As seeing Eddie was always _soaked_ , a result of pregnancy that served to leave his body constantly pumped full of hormones and horny as a bitch in heat, it created a domino effect. All it ever took was one look at Eddie’s glistening, sopping wet core for Richie _feel_ the blood rush to his dick and leave him wanting to fuck his poor little boyfriend into unconsciousness. He always knew what his body wanted— It wanted the toxic slick that Eddie provided. They fed on the stuff and provided Eddie with the crawling, _squirming_ feeling deep within his guts that he loved _so_ much. His cunt killed them off as soon as they ingested enough of the blackened slick, so all the maggots that went in died within an hour and came out only once Eddie was cleaned out.

The fact that they always died was half the reason why Eddie was _so_ insistent on having more and more of them pumped into him. The raw movement that he had _no_ way of controlling thrilled him, and it quelled the hormones that demanded he be filled with _something_ every waking moment of the day. It was also why Richie was beyond content to just let it happen over and over, again and again until he grew bored— There never seemed to be enough for the little brat. He didn’t mind—if his gross boyfriend loved it and wanted to be fucked, he wouldn’t _not_ oblige him.

Sometimes, if enough was in the smaller boy, while cleaning Eddie out, the black goo would end up weakening Richie’s porcelain fingers to the point of cracking. As a result, if Eddie clenched his little dick channel, he was able to crack Richie’s fingers off with ease. The broken ceramic and maggots always had him giddy with pleasure; he never stopped grinning at the way the porcelain would tear up his insides to mush— he absolutely loved the feeling. Often giggling and laughing until he sounded like the little maniac he was about how good it felt to have Richie churn up his insides with the shattered pieces of his fingers, Richie was forced to listen to him while he waited for his fingers fix themselves. His boyfriend was always a little fucking shit, but he did this all the time. Richie assumed he’d grown used to it, but it never seemed common enough for him to be happy if Eddie broke his _dick_ off instead.

…

The time Eddie had given him a blowjob to weaken it, Richie knew that the little fucker knew _exactly_ what he was doing as he broke it off just after Richie came.

He had tried to keep Richie pressed against him, but _fuck_ was he full. All the cum in him, the maggots that were all trying to get that sweet, toxic love juice that his gross little cunt was absolutely soaked with absolutely _writhing_ within his guts— He started babbling happily into the sad excuse of a pillow underneath him that it felt so _good_ , all of it coming in and giving him the intense, squirming party in his womb that was just making him _more_ and _more_ horny. Richie was forced to stay still so the porcelain could mend and his dick could just reattach itself to his body-- He would rather do that than have to grow an entire new one. Either way, he was _not_ been amused.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” He spat, holding Eddie’s hips firmly in place, “Last time I let you try to ‘be nice’ and give me a blowjob before you beg to be fucked.” Eddie, that little shit, had literally torn his fucking dick off so he could get more of those stupid maggots in his hungry little cunt. Honestly, if the dumbass would have just asked him first, he wouldn’t have cared, but it had ended up just being a huge pain in his pelvis and annoying as fuck to deal with!

“You know you fucking love it,” Eddie giggled, eyes alight with glee.

“Yeah right,” Richie scoffed, “That’s the last time I’m letting you give me a blowjob then let you beg to be fucked while you’re pregnant. You can take one or the other, asswipe. That, or ask for something else.”

“Like eating me out? Or making out?” Eddie asked, looking up at the doll demon with a sweetly innocent smile. Richie had _some_ flesh parts of him, like his tongue, that Eddie’s slime usually burned and would cause more maggots to crawl out of him out of and down the smaller demon’s throat-- He abused that fact _viciously_.

Not too pleasant of a feeling, but that wasn’t to confuse anything— Richie kinda enjoyed the feeling of his boyfriend’s caustic saliva burning him; whenever he would eat Eddie out, the stuff would burn large holes into the soft flesh of his tongue and leave him to feel the maggots slip out while he bled. They would to wriggle and squirm while Richie chowed down on the addicting burn of his boyfriend’s sweet cunt, more holes decorating his tongue every time and feeding more in. He’d add in his fingers to let Eddie crack off if he was in the mood for a little pain.

It was fun.

Once, he had tried to see just how many of his little body friends Eddie could take while he had been pregnant. They were demons, so stamina had never been an issue— it was more about being in the mood, one fucking the other until one cried mercy. That cry for mercy had come nine rounds into his little challenge.

...

Richie had a gorgeous sight before him.

Eddie kept letting out broken moans that he couldn’t stop coming, that some of the maggots within him had managed to get in deep and now he could feel them in his womb, slipping in through his cervix and leaving him beyond words of known pleasure. They were feeding at the plush lining of his womb, some of the dead ones already slipping out with the toxic goo that just kept soaking his thighs more and more with every time he came. Richie had lost count of how many times Eddie had come, but he guessed it had been wracked up into near twenties by that point. He ended up just sitting there, _watching_.

Eddie had been _so_ determined to get to ten loads, but unlike before—try as he might—unlike when he _hadn’t_ been pregnant, he couldn’t. He had gotten to nine loads before he had wailed that it was too much— the following day had been spent trying to get him completely clean of all the maggots. So many had slipped into his womb, chewing and feeding before they died from the toxic slick inside, that it had basically triggered a gross little mini-period that Eddie had been absolutely furious about. Richie had found it rather amusing.

Eddie was now sitting in their poor excuse of a bathroom, pouting over the tub like a child and crossing his arms angrily. His stomach was cramping so badly he was shaking, and he’d felt like _shit_ , and Richie had just sat there, being an _asshole_! The tall-ass little shit was watching as it all oozed down his legs like a fucking sicko!

He glared at the jackass, hearing Richie move and giving an annoyed huff. “Finally gonna help, dickwad?” He spat angrily, yelping when he felt a cold finger dip into the mess and drag through it curiously. He howled in annoyance. “You fucking _suck_ , Richie! This is all your fuckin’ fault! Your and your shitty-ass dick— Hey! _What the fuck are you doing?!”_ He was cut off; Richie had started fingering some of it back in.

“It can’t hurt you. You’re being annoying. You wanted to go for ten loads anyways, so shut the hell up and take responsibility,” He grunted. Honestly, for one who loved having broken porcelain and fucking maggots in his cunt, Eddie ended up whiny about the things he was willing to have in the tight channel. The whining and bitching were beyond annoying.

“Don’t put it back _in me_ you fucking _jackass_! It’s coming out for a reason—!” A bad cramp rocked Eddie’s tiny frame as more of the dead-maggot-filled goo slipped past Richie’s fingers and onto the grimy puddle under his legs. He threw a fit at that. “I’m gonna fucking kill all of your stupid fucking dick maggots Richie! You fucking _suck_! You gave me a fucking period, you shitty asshole! _I hate you!”_

Richie just rolled his eyes. Eddie may have been a big fucking annoyance, but the rare times he was adorable just happened to be when he got angry like that. That became especially true once Richie realized it was hotter to watch the goo slip down Eddie’s legs and ooze into a puddle every time his fingers pushed in, as seeing it was now a creamy grey color; a result of the black slick being mixed with his cum. It was leaving streaks on Eddie’s almost translucent inner thighs, and Richie stood up properly, pressing his hips against the soft swell of Eddie’s ass.

Eddie could feel Richie growing hard against his ass while Richie fingered some of the larger clumps of insect-infested cum globs out of him, and opened his mouth to protest again. It was cut off before it could even begin, though, because holy _shit_ some of the still-living maggots grew active against his walls as he grew wetter, knowing they were now feeding on all the leaking goo. “ _Fuck_ I hate you,” He moaned, knowing damn well more of those stupid maggots were going to be fucked into him since that Richie was hard again.

They were. He threw another insane hissy fit.

…

Eddie’s hissy fits mostly came and went, especially once he was ‘carrying’ their human counterparts’ twins. It was better to just let them pass and have Eddie stew in anger, but as he stomped up to Richie from his favorite sulking spot in the basement, Richie knew he was in for it. He watch boredly as Eddie dropped himself into Richie’s lap. Richie just let the smaller boy rant in his ear angrily while he held him patiently in his lap and stroked his skin absentmindedly. It was pretty cute, really. The only time Eddie ever seemed cute was when he was furious.

Eddie pounded his little fists on Richie’s chest and finally decided he would just get his needle and thread and sew Richie’s mouth shut, which was fucking annoying, but as soon as Richie had grown quiet, Eddie grew incredibly antsy. He started babbling and giggling to himself, picked at his skin and tried to claw at the firm, sinewy black veins under his stomach that prevented him from just tearing his stomach open and forcing the twins out. Richie had to keep his hands around Eddie’s swollen tummy so he wouldn’t up and try to torment the _actual_ Eddie; they were nowhere _near_ strong enough to overpower their human counterparts— none of the demonic Losers were.

“Lemme _go_ , Richie! I can take that fucker now! He’s pregnant and he’s _weak_ , I can get us back in power! If he’s scared I’ll kill his babies then we can get the upper hand, we’ll have food and we can wake up—!”

“Oi. You’re carrying too, shit-for-brains. Shut the fuck up and actually _use_ it. You know _damn_ well that right now, _you’re_ the hungriest out of all of us. Calm the fuck down and fucking _think_. If you keep complaining, I’m gonna have to keep you quiet.”

“How are you gonna keep me quiet Richie? What, you gonna shove your dick down my throat and break my jaw so I can’t talk? You don’t have the guts, you fucking pussy!”

Richie took that challenge immediately, shoving Eddie down and grunting. “Open your mouth,” He snarled, feeling Eddie go lax underneath him and grinning.

Eddie let Richie break his jaw so he could take literally every inch of his boyfriend’s cock into his mouth that he could before. Doing it again just felt so much more _raw_ when he realized that their kids were kicking and moving inside of him as he did it. He could feel its cold head brushing far past the edge of his throat and all he could do was give a breathless gag and groan of pleasure around it. He already had two loads of cum in him and another one down his throat making its way to his stomach— Richie was fucking his mouth and fuck if it isn’t the greatest thing he had felt in a while. Everything inside of him felt so active and alive, and he felt his cunt give an aching throb from how empty it was, jealous of his mouth hogging all the attention.

His jaw was full of white-hot pain and when it cracked, he creamed himself with a broken mewl. Richie gave one final thrust into Eddie’s mouth and then another wriggling load was burning down Eddie’s abused throat. Eddie had pressed two fingers into himself, and as he cracked his jaw back into place he forced a third and fourth in at the same time. The broken moan he gave once his jaw was back in its proper place as he came around his fingers had Richie spilling another load onto Eddie’s messy brown locks.

“‘ _Chee_ ,” Eddie’s speech was heavily slurred from his rapidly-healing jawbone, “Nee’ _mor_ ’. _C’m_ ’ _n_ , fuc’ me,” His whining was grating on Richie’s ears, and he pushed Eddie back down again instead.

“You keep complaining. Why should I give you a treat when you’re being bad? I’ve got half a mind to put in something bigger so you’ll shut up,” He had been trying to scold him, yet Eddie’s eyes lit up excitedly at the prospect.

“Do it,” He grinned. Eddie was so totally down with Richie fisting him then breaking off Richie’s fucking hand at the wrist inside of him. It was the thickest thing he could take and sometimes his size craving was beyond insatiable, as it was now— not that his body couldn’t take it.

He began to insist that he wanted to feel Richie’s cold fingers in his womb; nothing they do could hurt the babies he’s carrying, so why not have their fun? Only the real Richie and Eddie determine what happens to the babies. That fact had Richie giving in. He actually _did_ manage to get his hand in, but once he tried to push in past his wrist, Eddie gave beyond-broken moan in protest. “‘Chee, _fuck_ — There’s no more room— ’m gonna piss myself or cum if ya keep fucking trying to push your damn _forearm_ into my fucking _cunt!_ ” Richie scoffed, having decided to try and push his luck.

He was rewarded with both.

Having ended up soaked in his boyfriend’s disgusting mix of cum and piss, he made a disgusted noise. Sure, Eddie looked so fucked out and _happy_ , _but_ — “ ** _Fuck_** _!_ I hate you, you fucking _pain in the ass!_ You could’ve fucking _told_ _me_ you were gonna take a _piss_ all over my fucking _hand!_ God, you annoying little _whore_!” Richie pulled his hand out all at once in disgust and blinked at the sickening squelch that followed his movement.

Eddie’s cunt had prolapsed once Richie forced his entire hand out of him at once. Of course, the boy fucking _loved_ it. “Holy _fuck_ — ‘Chee, I can _see_ it—!” He started to giggle excitedly as his fingers pressed at the prolapsed muscle curiously; he had never managed to do _that_ before—

“Quit fucking _playing_ _with_ _it_ , you disgusting little _freak_. I’ve gotta push it back in,” Eddie just kept giggling as Richie pushed the sickly grey-white muscle back inside his boyfriend.

Honestly, it was disgusting how happy Eddie became when it came to that shit. As the months dragged on and the smaller demon grew bigger and bigger with the twins, he became, if anything, _more_ of a brat than he had been before the pregnancy. More temper tantrums, more crying— The whole package of being nothing more than a man-child who _never_ did anything he didn’t enjoy.

The pregnancy had become something he had grown not to enjoy.

Eddie’s immaturity really pissed Richie off. They weren’t 13-year-old-sized demons anymore-- their human counterparts were almost 23, which meant they were too.

Eddie had to learn how to fucking act like it, in Richie’s opinion.

…

Eddie— now almost 6 months along and dealing with the worst of two demons growing to be the opposite of their human-counterpart twins in his abdomen had to offer—simply had much less space in his cram-packed tummy. That became an issue when Richie wished to fuck his poor little boyfriend and treat him to a small surprise.

“I need to make room. Your stupid womb is in the way,” Eddie seemed confused, which was a fairly rare expression for him, and turned to look behind himself to look at Richie. Being on his hands and knees was the only way he could be fucked as roughly as he wanted without his dumb stomach getting in the way.

“What the hell are you goin’ on abou— _Fuck!”_ Eddie started screeching and squealing like a stuck pig. With Eddie’s womb in the way, Richie’d had to move some other things out of the way. So he had decided to just fucking shove his hand into Eddie’s hungry little cunt and fucking _move_ Eddie’s guts up and out of his way.

Now, Eddie didn’t _ever_ eat and or drink, but the swallowing habits he had made for himself in regards to his boyfriend’s cum meant there _was_ liquid in his bladder. With a loud cry, he pissed himself, sobbing out in surprise as the pressure was suddenly relieved by force. See, their anatomy could hold the ambrosia as long as they pleased, courtesy of being partial offspring of a demonic spider being from space with forms that could turn into anything they want. But with his womb came a bladder with a limit, and having it crammed up against his skin caused the basic laws of physics to kick in. A smaller volume of space for the same amount of liquid to stay in meant some had to come out.

And it did.

“ _Fuck_ , you fucking _douchebag_ , warn me first! You _jackass_ , that _hurts_!” Eddie had started throwing another fit—he had _refused_ to admit how good it felt. Richie hadn’t even warned him before deciding to shove all his guts out of the way! But before he could keep protesting, Richie fucked into him, and then he realized why exactly Richie had just decided to shove everything out of the way; The fucker had grown another dick.

Richie rarely treated his boyfriend to some of the best abilities his porcelain body could achieve, but when he did, he never mentioned that he was about to do such to Eddie. Half because Eddie’s got stupidly excited about it and would just get annoying, and the other half because it was almost always a tight fit without two little demon babies in the way— had he informed the tinier demon, he would have had to listen to Eddie pitch a bitch fit about not squashing them.

No wonder he had just decided to make some room.

“There. Get it now?” He grunted, trying to keep himself steady over the smaller male. Eddie’s hungry walls were clinging to him in a vice grip and with double the sensation, he could barely keep himself together long enough to speak.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Eddie slurred, having fallen forward onto his elbows with his ass in the air, his swollen stomach hanging low between them and preventing him from spreading his legs as far as he usually could, “I hate you so much Richie, you fucking asshole—!” He could barely get his words out.

He was sobbing and moaning into his mattress and trying so hard to hold out; he was so full, he could barely keep his legs up and he could do nothing more than clench needily around Richie— Richie was right to assume there wasn’t space, but even after all his prep to make some more, there still wasn’t enough.

Richie couldn’t move forward; his boyfriend had him clenched in such a vice grip that all he could do was roughly grind his hips forward and rub at Eddie’s swollen clit.

“Yeah, yeah, I hate you too you little slut. Now shut the fuck up,” He snarled. Eddie started giggling and trembling, turning to grin at Richie almost violently at that.

“You know you love me you piece of shit,” He was promptly shut up by Richie kissing him, biting on the smaller demon’s cracked lips and feeling toxic blood slip against his tongue. He could feel it burning holes into the soft flesh of his tongue, and groaned in delight, fucking his hips forward into the other with such a vice grip on Eddie’s hips that quite a few of his fingers began to crack and cut into Eddie’s skin.

It only took a few minutes of that for Eddie to spasm underneath the older man, his abused sex finally giving out. He came hard, almost completely collapsing underneath Richie, just barely held up by the doll-like demon so he wouldn’t crush the twins: sure, it wouldn’t hurt them, but Eddie would throw a fit if one of them had to heal and leave him even more hungry than he already was.

“You fucking whore. You can’t even cum right,” Richie crooned in his ear, hearing Eddie give the most broken little moan in response and chuckling low in his throat.

Eddie could feel Richie still grinding into him, whimpering in his throat when finally Richie’s hips stuttered, and the clumpy globs of cum he loved so much began to fill him up twice as fast as they usually did.

Two dicks, two times as much nasty shit to fill him up.

“Fuck off,” The tinier boy groaned. He could barely move; his entire body was screaming for him to just stay like that for the rest of the day, and he for once, he agreed. It actually felt like it was too much.

“Move my organs back, you dick, it _hurts_ ,” He slurred out; it was rare that he  actually grew upset, and it was usually because he was craving the one thing Richie refused to give him.

Affection.

“Yeah yeah, you whiny bitch, I’m getting there,” Richie scoffed, pulling out slowly and letting the second one break off. He usually kept it inside of Eddie like a plug of sorts while he let Eddie calm down from his high.

Eddie was being oddly quiet, only giving tiny, whiny little noises in the back of his throat and squirming uncomfortably. Richie got fed up with them and moved to see why Eddie wasn’t being his usual pain-in-the-ass self.

“Oi, What the hell is your problem? Are you fucking sulking? After I just gave you a treat?” He was expecting Eddie to get angry right back at him as he forced the smaller male onto his back, but instead, he was met with Eddie full out crying. Eddie hadn’t even gotten pissed at being moved so aggressively; he just looked up at Richie, slimy black tears staining his face and eyes bloodshot from crying.

He sniveled weakly, turning his head away and biting his lower lip. “Fuck you, Rich. You’re a fucking asshole,” He snapped out, rolling back onto his side, refusing to look at Richie.  
  
Now confused as hell, Richie’s eyebrows crinkled. He hadn’t done anything differently from normal. Nothing had changed except— “You three want me to pamper you, don’t you?” He groaned, scrubbing a hand across his face when Eddie twitched a bit from where he was laying.

Honestly, the little shit wasn’t even saying what he wanted. How the hell was  he supposed to know what to do?!  
  
Richie laid down next to Eddie with a roll of his eyes, not expecting Eddie to start pressing back against him. “What the hell— What crawled up your ass and lived? What are you— Are you trying to _cuddle_ me?” Their relationship was by no means healthy. It was violent and possessive and all the horrible things that their human counterparts would never do to each other. So why Eddie was currently fucking cuddling him, Richie had no idea.

He hated it.

“Yeah, you fucking prick, I am. Our fuckin’ _kids_ are what crawled into my cunt and lived. You think I want this _bullshit_? You’re cold and I hate you,” Despite his sharp words, Eddie could feel Richie moving an icy arm over the bare skin of his swollen stomach, and found his body relaxing despite himself.

“Yeah, I hate you too. Now shut the fuck up before I change my mind. I’m only doing this because your whining is the most annoying thing you do.”

“Your _breathing_ is the most annoying you do. That’s why I sew your mouth shut, asswipe.”

“ _And_ you ruined it.”

“Oh _fuck you—!”_


	2. Rearranged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a half-spider demon sometimes has its perks. Eddie can rearrange his internal organs if he so pleases, or take one out the fun way and grow a new one. His boyfriend can leave parts of his body in him as plugs if he’s being bad, then connect them back on later like it was never even removed.
> 
> The womb was not one of those perks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after mon ths of writers block i finally finish this shitstorm lmao ??

Eddie hates a lot of things.

He hates being hungry, he hates his wheezy human counterpart, and he hates how shitty _his_ Richie can be. But never in his existence has he hated something as much as he hates pushing out the kids he insisted he wanted to carry for fun.

That was what they were supposed to be— _fun_!

Everything was so much more intense with them inside of him; the pleasure he got from Richie, the near-constant squirming feeling he got because there were fucking _two_ of them using his insides as a jungle gym, and the excuse for Richie to coddle him.

Getting them out was not _fun_.

At all.

———

“Richie, can’t you just fucking yank them out?! This is fucking bullshit!” It was December, everyone was cold and hungry— the less that kids went outside, the less ‘food’ the group got. Not that residual energy from kids as much of a meal as it was. The cold kept people inside and the unlucky seven, as they had dubbed themselves, were starving— That seemed to be the perfect time for the actual twins to inform Eddie’s human counterpart of their arrival.

Which meant Eddie was stuck at his human counterparts will until the _actual_ little shits came out.

“No, dumbass, I can’t. They’re stuck. I’ve told you this fifteen fucking times– _Our_ brats don’t come out until _their_ brats come out,”

Richie was being forced to watch over Eddie, as, according to Bill, “You put them in him. It’s not our problem.” He got no sympathy from the others either; they were sick and tired of dealing with the absolute pain in the ass that was Eddie while he was _pregnant_. He was annoying enough as it was.

The most developed and fleshed out thanks to his interaction with the human Richie, and the human Eddie, ‘Eddie’ was the one who had gotten the most information to go off of. He knew the most and could respond as he pleased with the said information.

That information seemed to have been taken as directions to be a fucking annoyance.

“Fuck off! Go fucking pull it out of the actual Eddie then! I’m fucking sick of these little shits! I don’t want ‘em in me anymore, you fucker! I hate them!”

Richie looked up from one of the clown puppets he had been fixing in annoyance. Eddie had gone on a rampage in Richie’s room while Richie was asleep because, as Beverly explained, “He couldn’t get into your coffin to wake you up to fuck him. Thanks to your brats, obviously. He came downstairs and demanded I wake you up. I wasn’t dealing with your sex lives, so I said no. He got pissed, went back upstairs, then there was a bunch of crashing. That was probably when he went apeshit all over your dumb dolls.”

Richie wasn’t amused.

“If you actually hate them you would have gone and killed them yourself. The actual ones. I know you can, dumbass,”

Eddie just growled at him, “You wouldn’t fucking _let_ me you piece of shit!” He shrieked, moving to sit up and screeching in pain at the harsh contraction pulling through his body. His body slumped back on his mattress and he started kicking his legs in the air like a child, another loud slew of curses —all aimed at Richie— escaping him.

Richie still didn’t seem to be paying attention.

“I sleep a lot,” The doll-like demon started, “Your lazy ass could have gotten up, gone _out_ the door and gone to kill them. Could have gotten us some fucking food too,” Eddie’s gaze darkened, but Richie ignored him.

“One hand in Eddie’s stomach would have gotten all of us a full course meal. Pull the brats out, eat them and then eat Eddie’s corpse,” The smaller demon opened his mouth to protest at that, and an indigent noise came out in its wake, but the ‘older’ male just continued without a care.

“He’s pregnant. He was weak and an easy target. You’re just a lazy little brat with no power. Mike’s dumb _hands_ could have done more,”

Eddie went dead quiet at that.

“Honestly, have you ever _thought_ about what a pain in the ass you are for everyone? We have to ration the energy so your dumb ass can fucking support two brats too. You could have just let them appear out of nowhere like _normal_ , but _no,_ you wanted to fucking _carry_ them. For _fun_! So your slutty little cunt could get more dick from me than it already did!”

Eddie turned away from him, still deathly silent, and Richie just laughed at him, hollow and cold and mocking; reminding Eddie that he thought it was all a little game of house, like with his dolls.

Seems he’d struck a nerve.

“You know it. You _know_ they’re nothing but annoyances—”

“Shut _up_ Richard,”

Oh, Richard was new.

Eddie’s voice was as cold and hard as half the icicles hanging off the panes of the windows. It was all the things it never was otherwise. The smaller man was never _serious_. He was a demented, cock-addicted little whore. _Serious_ wasn’t even a word in the little book of emotions he drew from.

It was odd, and Richie’s eyebrows creased as his painted-on face melted into a confused frown, “What the hell is your problem?” He started, “Don’t tell me you _actually_ wanted these little mistakes?”

“Shut _up_ , Richard,” Richie took note of how Eddie’s voice cracked from the tension in him at the word _up_.

_Oh my god_.

“Holy fuck,” Richie’s breath caught in his throat, and he snorted back a loud laugh, “You _do_! You care for these fucking things! Jesus, you _really_ think we’re gonna let them _live_?!”

Full-out laughing now, as if he’d just heard the world’s most amusing joke, Richie actually put down the almost-fixed marionette he’d been working on. It was funny enough to think Eddie wanted him to _pamper_ the smaller demon, but now expected to _keep them around_?!

He nearly fell to the ground with his peals of mirth.

“You are just fucking _perfect_! How the hell do you come _up_ with this shit?! You _honestly_ think we’re gonna just _keep them around_?! For _fun_? I mean, I kept this ‘parent’ bullshit up because your horny little ass was too tempting to give up, but that was just to see you get pissy once we eat them!” His amusement melted into annoyance when Eddie still refused to respond.

Getting up off of his place on the floor, Richie went quiet, still getting nothing in response and gritting his teeth. If the little piece of shit wanted to be a brat, he was going to have to remind him that while their little bedroom fun had been great the past few months, _all_ of them were still starving.

“You _know_ that’s _months_ of Eddie’s little _body displacement_ _bullshit_ wrapped up in two meaty little brats! They’re _food_ , dumbass! You really think I’m gonna let those dickbags get away with makin’ us go through all this shit for _fun_?! Like you did?!” Towering over the smaller demon, who had turned away from him, Richie roughly grabbed the lithe pair of shoulders in front of him.

The other man's silence had really started to piss him off. Eddie needed a wake-up call because playtime was over. It was time for dinner and Eddie was refusing to put away his toys at the dinner table.

“Wake up, you fucking idiot! We have priorities, and that’s waking _It_ up! Not kids, not bullshit happily-ever-after! _Wake up,_ ” Shaking Eddie’s shoulders as if physically trying to wake him up, Richie released him with more more force than he needed to, sitting back down in his previous spot with unnecessary aggression, clearly wanting to do more than just a firm shake, but unwilling to deal with the bitch fit Eddie would pitch afterwards.

Eddie was still dead quiet, unmoving from his greasy mattress and almost doll-like.

Then, it was like he became a different person. He sat up fully, straightening up his back and settling his shoulders back. He let his head roll over his shoulders, popping his neck on one side, then rolling it the other way with a much quieter, but similar, result. Stretched his arms back above and then behind his head, his shirt rising up to reveal the translucent skin of his backside; spinal cord almost visible and every vertebra clear as day under the translucent skin, sinewy black veins tightly crawling towards his abdomen, the point where they all merged just out of sight.

“Hey ‘Chee,” He hummed, voice sugary-sweet as he rolled his neck again. The lack of a _pop!_ drew an unseen frown out of him, before he grasped his skull with his tiny hands and pulled on it _hard_ to the left, getting a sickening crack to resound through the room before he sighed in relief, “Who’s the strongest?”

Richie gave Eddie’s behind an annoyed look. “ _It_ is, obviously, you little fucking idiot–”

“Mhm, I know that. But _It’s_ asleep right now. Who’s the strongest _right now_?” His voice lilted with a soft, unnerving giggle.

Now it was Richie’s turn to be quiet.

“Who had the _most_ contact and got the most fear out of their respective human _and_ the other one in addition?” His voice grew a bit louder, making up for his boyfriend’s silence in raw emotion that quickly began to swallow the room with an intimidating heat to it, “Because we _both_ had Richie, but I had Eddie, too. I made him break his arm. I almost got _It_ to eat Eddie twice, if Bill hadn’t been a dumbass and let the _‘It’s not real!’_ dissolve Betty,”

Richie let out a near-silent sigh; no one would admit it happily, but Eddie was the strongest for the same reason he was considered the most annoying. He had almost gotten both the real Eddie _and_ Richie eaten, had it not been for a slip in judgment from the real Bill: if the stuttering boy hadn’t convinced the real Richie It wasn’t real, Edward Kaspbrak would have been another on the list of missing children. “That doesn’t fucking matter—”

“ _Yes, it fucking does!_ ” Eddie screeched: an unholy, demented wail that had half the walls shaking from its intensity, “They’re _my_ fucking babies, you fucker, and I _want_ them!” He turned his head almost backward and making another disgusting crack ring through the room. Richie swore he saw one of the bones in the tinier demon’s neck physically displace itself and leave the gruesome sight of it standing out from the nearly transparent skin in its wake, and involuntarily shuddered in disgust.

“I’ll eat _every_ fucking kid in this fucking town _by myself_ if it means _It_ will let me keep them!” Standing up abruptly, Eddie turned, the displaced bone in his neck popping back into place as he did and giving Richie something to focus on other than his demented boyfriend; despite his heavily-pregnant waddle, he suddenly seemed rather terrifying. Something was a little… Off.

Eddie _clearly_ wasn’t completely there.

He went up to Richie, grasping at his throat so harshly he could feel it crack under his fingers as soon as his tiny fingers dug into the porcelain. Violent, unhinged giggles bubbled up from his throat as he grasped his thread and needle from the pocket in his shorts where he kept them. He had a special little pocket for them for easy access in situations just like this. Never knew when he would have to sew Richie’s trashmouth shut for being a little prick.

Like now!

“If you’re gonna talk bad about _our_ babies, I’ll just have to sew your mouth shut until you learn better,” He sing-songed, the hand on Richie’s neck tightening its grip. More of the ceramic cracked— Eddie felt the shards digging harshly into his skin, and gave a tiny whine. Black ooze started soaking into the cracks in Richie’s throat and burning away at the newly-exposed area, and he could _feel_ it sizzle and dissolve under his touch. It was the greatest thing ever to him, watching his body destroy Richie’s fragile one.

“ _Okay_?” Eddie’s eyes weren’t even focused on the doll in front of him; they were far-away and nearly pitch black, his pupils blown wide and coloring his scalera an inky black. Richie could only stare up at him silently as the needle pulled through his lips, more of the acidic black ooze burning his vocal chords to mush and tiny fingers trying to churn the mixture into a grog-like, sticky paste. The shorter man had yet to catch Richie’s gaze and was instead silently whispering to himself that if Richie didn’t want to say okay, he was just going to have to take it as a _no_ and punish him.

For once, the prospect of Eddie _punishing_ him sent real, raw fear down his spine, making the ceramic of his legs chitter against the wooden seat he was just barely perched on. Ignoring the violent pain shooting up his neck, the doll nodded, trying to signal that he understood. Despite the agony that came with it, seeing Eddie this violent was usually one of his favorite things about the little brat. He loved being reminded that his boyfriend was a little psychopath teetering on the brink of insanity, playing on that thin rope as if it was another one of his many ‘toys’.

This was not one of those times.

Eddie had never seemed this far off the mark, and that fact had an icy-cold sludge settle in Richie’s stomach, unable to crawl up his throat only because there were five small fingers still digging into it like a child playing in sticky mud.

Eddie was known to make up his mind on what he loved and what he hated on varying whims. A new stance on what he loved and what he hated was based on whatever distant thought crossed his mind at any given moment. He would gladly do what he pleased; if he was happy and having _fun_ , he would do it all he wanted and see who would try and stop him. If happy and fun meant going on a cannibalistic rampage that their own creator couldn’t handle— he would do it until he died.

It was Richie’s job to keep the little shit under control; he was the one constant in Eddie’s ever-changing plethora of loves and hates. He would always love Richie, even when he hated him and wanted him to die. When Richie was being an idiot, Eddie would sew his mouth shut, so he wouldn’t hurt him later. Sure, Richie’s body might shred the tips of his fingers down to the bone and leave him whining about how it stung for weeks, but it was better than letting Richie say as he pleased and face the full consequences for the stupid shit he would say.

But talking bad about their babies was something Eddie wouldn’t stand for. He’d tear his own stomach open to get them out if it meant he got to hold them now, and it wouldn’t matter. He couldn’t bleed, he couldn't’ die. If _It_ was alive, he was too. The only thing preventing him from getting to his babies then and there was that those damn black veins refused to give way under his clawing nails. He couldn't have his babies until Eddie had his. Which meant he was stuck sitting around boredly! Richie usually ran his stupid mouth to fill the silence, and Eddie decided it was too quiet, staring down at Richie with a smile that didn’t even seem real.

“Hey ‘Chee, if I tear your stitches out, will you play with me?” He crooned, his bloody fingers going to the needle still dangling from the thread keeping Richie’s lips sealed together, giving it a good _yank_ and squealing in delight when ceramic shattered easily under the sharp thread.

The lack of bodily autonomy is what Richie usually loved the most. It was raw, unbridled lack of caring in the best possible way that was usually a huge turn on for him, but now… He honestly worried he would be left in so many pieces he would have to regrow all of himself again. Not wanting to start from scratch, Richie nodded, watching as some of the oily black mix of ceramic dust and Eddie’s blood dripped down onto his lap with curious disgust.

“ _Good_ ,” Eddie dropped down roughly into Richie’s lap, laughing breathlessly when he felt the hard heat of his boyfriend’s cock rubbing between his legs. “Woah…. You dirty little whore… You got this hard while I tried to kill you…? Was it _because_ I was trying to kill you?” Before Richie could respond, he slumped forward, good hand reaching down to grasp the solid heat under him and gripping it _hard_ as a contraction gripped his abdomen and threatened to squeeze his waist a whole size smaller. He was dead silent until Richie gave a broken, garbled noise of pain, the smaller demon mirroring the noise mockingly before he let out a bloodcurdling scream, body visibly shaking he did. It had Richie jolting in surprise.

“You know how fucked up that is?” The brown-haired demon is still giggling: he knew damn well the other couldn’t reply, “Hey ‘Chee… You wanna fuck our babies outta me? Can’t have them getting out to see their Daddy is hard ‘cause he wants to fuck Mommy’s tight little cunt and had to wait for them first,” Moving his hand off of Richie’s cock to instead press it against the doll’s cheeks, Eddie smeared the shard-filled slime that was his blood all over the cold ceramic. Another nod from Richie was all it took for Eddie to let Richie move.

“On the bed. Where the fuck do you think they’re gonna go if I’m fucking them out of you?” Richie’s voice was a shattered disaster, sounding like some absolutely horrible mix of a fork on a plate and ragged nails on a chalkboard. It was trying to repair itself, and as it does, it made a shudder run up Eddie’s spine. He just giggled again at how funny it sounded.

“I bet you’ll feel their head brushing up on the head of your dick when you fuck me. Think they’ll like your maggots as much as I do?” Eddie hummed, his grip on Richie’s shoulders suddenly tightening violently as an agonized groan raked through his form. “Oh _fuck_ that hurts!” A harsh contraction had seized up his entire body, and he started beating his tiny fists harshly against Richie’s chest, hearing it crack whilst he tried to distract himself from the pain. Wailing cries escaped his throat as he demanded Richie fuck the pain away. “ _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck--!_ ”

“You’re gonna kill my boner if you keep crying like a little bitch.”

“Your boner isn’t the only thing I’m gonna fucking kill if you don’t fucking make me feel good, you useless fucking porcelain dildo!” Eddie smacked his hand across Richie’s face, his skin spitting while the cheek broke under the impact.

Richie just stared at him, knowing better than to argue. Eddie was beyond off the rails at the moment, and could easily pulverize him back to stoneware if he wasn’t careful. “No need to make it personal,” He said blankly.

“Your dumb _dick_ put these things in me! You must be dumber than the _actual_ Richie if you don’t think that’s pretty damn personal! I’m just returning the favor you kiln-fired _fuck_!” Richie just glared at him. The angry screeching was seriously killing the mood, and the insults were oddly harsh. Not that Eddie cared; he was in pain and he hated it. “At this point, the first one’s _head_ is fucking me more than your dick is! Our _kids_ are fucking my cunt better than you!”

Richie finally had quite enough of that, none-too-kindly shoving four fingers into the furiously-yelling boy, laughing when Eddie’s poor cunt tore open like a hot knife through butter under his fingers. Black blood splattered against his legs and on the floor, but he didn’t care.

Eddie had _finally_ shut up. He was loose around Richie’s fingers, and as he pushed the rest of his hand in, another contraction had Eddie’s body seizing up so violently his wrist audibly cracked. A ripple practically pulsed through the smaller man’s hips as he screamed and wailed at Richie, his regret immediate.

“Get your fingers _out_ , you son of a bitch! That fucking _hurts_! _Get them out, get them out,_ **_getthemout_**!” He was red in the face from his screeching, yet it fell on deaf ears. As soon as Richie had felt the contraction pulse around his hand, he wanted nothing more than to put his dick into the seizing chasm and feel the harsh clench around him like that instead.

“I can’t feel the brats anywhere. You can still take a few loads.” He said bluntly, pushing his pants down as he stood up. Eddie violently shook his head, trying to kick his legs angrily and get Richie off of him. He was trying to shove himself off of the doll, but it only took Richie yanking his fist out of Eddie all at once so he could grab onto his hips for Eddie to go down. The dumbass seemed to have forgotten that with two kids inside of him, his center of gravity was significantly thrown off.

Gravity won, but not without a casualty. Eddie ended up dragging Richie down with him onto the mattress as he hit the stone-hard material. He groaned in pain, tossing his head back and forth as if possessed, teeth gnashing into his bottom lip and making spittle and oily blood fly. “Get it _out_! I gotta _push_ , you horny fucking china-plate!” He howled, having felt Richie immediately force his cock into Eddie as a replacement for his fist. The smaller demon had been _trying_ to get Richie off of him because he could _feel_ one of the twins working its way down as the contractions did their job. He wasn’t having their kid _suffocate_ because their father’s _dick_ was blocking their exit.

Richie rolled his eyes behind his glasses. “You’re being overdramatic.” He mocked, kneeling on the course mattress and fucking his hips forward as Eddie wailed again, “If you really think you can feel one of them coming out, which I doubt, then they’ll just have to share.” He grunted, fucking his hips forward again and groaning brokenly at the impossibly warm heat.

Eddie glared at him, but was unable to move, stuck like a turtle on his back with two brats weighing him down. “The hell do you mean by that? They don’t wait for your dick to move, they come out when they fucking want, Daddy’s dick in their way or not,” He snapped, before grinning in realization, “You wanna fuck me while I’m practically—”

“If you say queefing out our kids I’m going to fucking eat you,” Eddie’s mouth snapped shut audibly, and he glowered impatiently at Richie, opening his mouth to say something before he twitched hard and went stiff as a board.

“Out,” He croaked, eyes going glassy. When Richie didn’t respond, he forced himself up, grasping Richie’s cheeks with his tiny palm and roughly yanking the demon down to eye-level. “ ** _Out!_** ” He bellowed, Richie clumsily pushing himself back. Eddie was clearly not joking now; the moment Richie was out of him, he gave an unholy screech that had Richie’s eardrums literally shattering within his ears.

Eardrums burst, fluid rushed within his ears and Richie lost his balance off the side of the mattress, completely disoriented. When he finally regained enough balance to sit up, ears ringing violently and eyes blurry as if there was some bright flash of light, he managed to pull his pants back up, hearing starting to come back as his eardrums healed. There was a new noise, just as loud as Eddie had been but much, _much_ higher. It was more annoying than Eddie’s, honestly.

Which meant the first brat was there.

Managing to pull himself up enough to see over the shoddy mattress, it was an odd sight. There was the brat, covered in oily black-and-grey goo and screeching its little head off. “Shut it up,” He spoke, words garbled and raw in his ears as they healed, “I’s fuckin’ _loud_ ,” Eddie looked up from where he had been collapsed back in exhaustion, practically wheezing as he caught his breath.

“ _Fuck off_ ,” Eddie hissed, scooping up the newborn and blinking when it suddenly went quiet, “The hell…?” He looked completely confused, yet when Richie moved to stand, Eddie literally growled at him, holding the infant close with an angry snarl. “You wanted to fucking eat her!” He yelled, Richie just glaring back at him.

“We can discuss this shit when the second one is out. Now give me her, before your clumsy ass drops her while the second one comes out,” Richie was oddly serious now, taking the child and making a noise of disgust at all the bloody goo that was smeared on him in the process. ‘Fucking disgusting,” He grumbled, looking at the cord attaching the newborn to Eddie and giving it a good yank without warning.

Eddie screeched, jolting up as if he had been stuck with a hot poker and wailing out in agonized surprise when the large glob of oily-black muscle came out of him. The placenta was just as disgusting as the rest of the baby, so Richie thought it was rather fitting.

“What the fuck?!” Eddie squawked, forcing himself up but collapsing back in agony as a violent contraction tore through him. “ _I fucking hate you!_ ” He screamed, back arching and body contorting in the most awful angles as he went through the pain. The fact of the matter was, the appearance of a new member meant the sudden distribution of food was split among the seven, which was agonizing as it was. But in bringing the twins into the world, Eddie got to feel the pain all seven would feel by himself.

It just showed itself via the contractions.

Richie only realized that as he stared at the infant in his arms, waiting for the inevitable harsh jerk behind his navel of all-consuming hunger that never failed to make even him collapse on the ground in desperate hunger and pain.

It never came.

Instead, the deafening screech from Eddie came in its wake. It died in the small demon’s throat halfway through and spared Richie’s eardrums the pain of bursting twice within ten minutes. Seems the second child was just as exhausted, because its cries were so weak and squeaky, at first Richie thought his hearing had just been more fucked than first assumed and weren’t fully healed.

No, it was just the newborn. Eddie was wheezing, beyond drained of every ounce of energy he had and unable to move. Richie watched silently, grabbing the ratty excuse of a blanket he used for Eddie when the demon started bitching about being cold, and ripped it in two, placing the first infant on the other’s chest and picking up the second. The second wasn’t cool to the touch like he was, just as the first one wasn’t,  and he couldn’t help but give a scoff of disappointment. One violent yank on the cord connecting the newborn to Eddie and the second mass of oozing-black gore was freed from the demon.

Two rough tugs on each babies’ cord had them officially free, and he stayed silent as he awkwardly wrapped the two in the thin material. “Oi,” He snapped at Eddie, putting both children back on Eddie’s still-heaving chest with an annoyed huff, “ _Oi_.” Eddie didn’t respond, giving a pained moan that he knew well.

An odd feeling of pride settled in his gut, and the doll frowned in disgust. Was he _proud_? Of _Eddie_? The fuck? Sure, Eddie had single-handedly taken on the devastating hunger that came with two new entities, but that was his own fault… Right?

Eddie was still oddly quiet, and upon moving closer, Richie realized why; Eddie was completely unconscious, oil-slick-colored blood dribbling down the side of his mouth and cloudy grey tears smearing his cheeks dirty. Without the blimp of his stomach in the way, he looked so much smaller than before. Gaunt, sunken cheeks and dark bruise-like bags under his eyes… He looked as starved as he had when--

“ _Shit_.”

————

Eddie really didn’t remember much beyond the agonizing pain in his stomach and the squirming little balls on his chest that kept screeching in his ears. He knew he was literally starving, that he wasn’t going to get up at this rate, and honestly, it just pissed him off.

He didn’t want to fucking starve because the two little spawns on his chest needed food instead. And yet… He didn’t really care. The two seemed actually… Cute? Is that what it could be called?

Fuck it. He was too hungry to care. Hell… He was too hungry to do anything. The wriggling little forms on his chest were suddenly much too heavy, and he pieced together what was happening right as he lost consciousness.

_I’m gonna starve_.

…

He came to realize he was more full than he had been in years, and there was a lack of babies on his chest. Something primal seemed to have kicked in because, despite the afterbirth still coating his legs and sweat soaking his skin, he was on his feet and tearing apart the room trying to find the two in an instant. The loud clattering seemed to have caught _someone’s_ attention because the door opened, and Eddie just lost it.

“ _Where the fuck are my babies_?!” He roared, having tackled the form in a blur and grasping their throat so roughly his nails cut into the flesh underneath. Mike just stared up at him, waiting for the demon to release him before he spoke.

“Rich was having Stan clean them. Said he hated all your ugly blood on them,” Eddie didn’t even respond, clad in only his disgusting shirt as he kicked a hole none-too-kindly into the wall and watched the floor crumble under the sudden weight of drywall. He was in the kitchen in an instant, seeing the familiar mop of curly hair and snarling, grabbing Richie’s hair and violently yanked him back to his own face.

_“Where the fuck are my babies?”_ He grit out, his grip tightening until he heard Richie’s skull cracking. Then he heard it; the weak, impossibly tiny cry that his rotten heart identified immediately as his younger child.

Dropping Richie on the ground without a second thought, Eddie found both of his children where they shouldn’t be: out of his sight. The younger was being held by Stan and trying to be cleaned, while the older was in the sink, curled up and oddly quiet. He turned his head and realized it was silent only because it was wailing so loud it’s little voice went out. “ _Give it back,_ ” Stan didn’t even know what was happening before Eddie had the crying newborn in one arm while the other took a nice hard swing right at Stan’s stupid face. The curly-haired demon fell easily, but Eddie didn’t even notice.

The older one had managed to claim some of its voice back, and let out an ungodly screech, starting to kick and flail so violently Eddie couldn’t pick it up at first. “Shut the fuck up, no one is touching you but me,” Finally getting a grip, the newborn was in Eddie’s arms and pressed against his chest, just as the younger one was.

The seizing in his chest ceased at once, and he gave a breathless, unhinged noise that fell somewhere between a laugh and a sob. He was so absolutely fucked.

He actually _cared_ about the little shits.

“Eddie,” Bill had watched everything unfold, and gave Eddie an annoyed look, “Go back to your little mattress and keep your human bull to yourself. We don’t need that in here,” He said, almost bored as he went to collect Stan from his crumpled heap on the floor.

“They’re staying,” Eddie whispered, voice leaving no room for any sort of disagreement.

“Rich made sure of that, idiot,” Motioning vaguely with his chin, Bill nodded to the rotting mangle of gore and bones that was clearly what had left Eddie so full after months of starving, “Now get them out of my face. They look just like you and it’s disgusting.” Eddie just snarled in his throat before he went back upstairs.

Just as he had settled, the newborn’s in his arms and swaddled in the ratty blanket strips, the door opened, and on instinct, he grabbed the nearest object—a large chair— and chucked it at the door. “Stay the fuck away from them!” He yelled, basically curled over the two like a protective animal and grabbing the next object his hands could reach.

Richie stood at the door, giving Eddie a very unamused look. “Calm the fuck down. I found another blanket, god, you insane freak.” He said, before realizing why Eddie had been so possessive; the older one pressed was against his left side, grunting and whimpering very softly every few moments while Eddie’s shirt had been bunched up under his armpit.

Eddie caught Richie’s gaze and made a defensive noise. “She was hungry. I’m not starving her,” He bit out, completely beyond reason and trying to hide the other in his arms as well. He was the closest to displaying fear Richie had ever seen within the Neibolt group, and it was odd.

“What the hell is your problem?” Richie asked, throwing the blanket at Eddie and going over to the mattress, watching as the older one kept feeding without a care. Eddie ignored him, shifting the little thing and zoning out for a few minutes.

Realizing it was futile to try and talk to the other when he was so engrossed, Richie flopped back on the stiff mattress, waiting it out. They were going to have words, whether Eddie liked it or not.

“I don’t hate them,” Eddie finally spoke, voice eerily relaxed and breathy, “Hell, I might even care about the little shits… They stay,” He said bluntly, turning his head and ignoring the awful ‘ _snap_ ’ that resounded as he forced his head backward. “Understand? You try to get rid of them, I eat you. You don’t fucking _touch_ my babies,”

“No fucking shit, idiot. I happen to _like_ not having to completely regenerate myself,” Richie deadpanned, ignoring the involuntary shudder that raked down his spine at just how unhinged his little boyfriend was being. “Care for them all you fucking want. You do that and keep them fucking quiet, I’ll keep everyone else off our back. That’s _it_ , fucker. Got it?”

Eddie hummed quietly. “Fine,” He chirped, “But just so you know,” The soft pause he gave had Richie sitting up to look at him, “You insult them, hurt them, or god knows what the fuck else… There is not a damn entity in this house that will be able to regenerate you from the pile of dust I will leave you in.”

Richie’s healthy fear of Eddie increased tenfold, and later that night, when Eddie had finally given in to his exhaustion, the two little bundles on his chest both swaddled in on an old shirt of his, Richie let himself relax.

The older one, Luci, was a lot more like him than he had originally thought. She had that same mess of oily curls on her head that he did, and though they weren’t visible on him, she had the exact same smattering of freckles on her cheeks that he did. As the hours had passed, he had realized that her skin was now just as soft as Eddie’s, but just as hardened and cold as he was. So she _was_ a little doll like he was, just… Had quite a lot of Eddie mixed in.

The younger one, Michelle-- MJ, as Eddie had nicknamed-- was almost all Eddie. Same messy, chestnut brown hair, tiny freckles and translucent skin. Same wheezy, squeaky sobs and violent changes in mood. She was even just as clingy as Eddie was. At one point, Eddie had insisted Richie hold MJ because Luci had started screaming her head off and Eddie needed to focus on that. After that, MJ had grown attached to her demented father. She hadn’t let Eddie take her back without wailing so loud one of the glass panes in the house shattered, so Richie had to extend a finger to let her hold onto.

They were both little shits, and just looking at them pissed him the fuck off, but oddly… Richie felt that odd curl of _something_ in his chest again. Pride? Possessiveness?

He didn’t know, nor did he care. They were a permanent addition to Eddie now, and he had long since accepted that he only hated the little fucker as much as he did because he cared for him. Which meant he cared about the brats too. If he cared, that meant the reality between himself and Richie was growing closer. It meant _It_ was growing stronger.

Then it wouldn’t matter if the brats were still around or not. The unlucky seven would bring upon their own demise to destroy those who didn’t fear what they were supposed to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey a huge ol shout out to @ellomell16 on tumblr for drawing some super amazing art for this story! i hope yall enjoyed!!!!! the ending is,, kinda shit but idrgaf so :33333C


	3. Never Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not even two weeks after the twins are born, one incident leaves Richie realizing he does care about his demented little family, despite his utter disgust at the very idea of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said that TNEM wouldn’t have any more chapters but @onlyreddie on tumblr requested another chapter and yesterday was her birthday so this chapter is dedicated to her! Happy Birthday Lauren, I really hope you like this bc it was actually really hard to write considering how rough and callous the characters are!!

For all of Richie’s boasting that he _hated_ the demented little cluster of demons that he had to call ‘family’, he sure was protective of them.

It had only taken part of the house literally falling down on the room Eddie had been feeding their twins in for him to notice that.

\----

The loud _CRASH!_ and a sudden wave of dust and debris falling from the ceiling was what alerted the others of the fall-in. There came a strangled yelp from above, and then Richie was standing on autopilot and shoving Bill and Stan—who’d stood up to investigate the aftermath— violently off the side of the stairs to make way. Stan hissed at him in annoyance, face twisting in anger.

“Watch it!” He snarled, Richie completely ignoring the laws of how bodies worked and turning his head around a full 360 and glowering darkly at the other.

“Fucking _try me_ , Staniel. See where it gets you,” He growled back, not waiting for a response before he continued his way back up the stairs. As soon as he reached the landing, he was met with snow drifting in from a rather large hole in the ceiling, a large blanket of the white stuff covering all the wreckage.

Seems that was the cause of the cave-in.

Distantly, behind the crumbled heap of rotting wood and roofing tiles, Richie could hear both twins wailing, but none of the tell-tale huffing from Eddie that _always_ came from the smaller demon when one of the two started crying. Despite how much Eddie wanted to _act_ like he hated the brats but when push came to shove if they cried, Eddie responded. Not once since their birth had they left the immediate vicinity of their parents, and other than the rare occasion of Richie holding them to transport them _to_ Eddie, only Eddie had held them. _Both_ girls had grown incredibly attached to their mother, as proven by the fact that for the most part, if they were awake and not being held by him, they were screaming their little lungs out.

It was a pain in the ass, yet every time, Eddie would dutifully calm them and soothe them. Only Richie ever saw the side of the smaller demon that would coo and soothe the infants and play the part of a loving mother. None of the other Losers were _ever_ allowed to see that— But it wasn’t Eddie who had instilled that rule.

Richie had.

The only display of raw, protective care for the two that had been seen by the others had been the day the two were born. Eddie had been so desperate to find his little ones, and once the figurative dust had settled and they were safely in his arms, the reality set in. He had shown that he was vulnerable, and the other Losers had been quick to call him out for it. Richie hadn’t stood for it then, and he refused to stand for it still now. Thus, Richie became a barrier of sorts between the little demon and the others. He didn’t give a flying fuck if Bill would grow angry with him for it; Eddie had wormed his way into the cold hole where he supposed his heart would have gone if he had one. So hearing them twins cry without a peep from Eddie sent off warning bells in Richie’s mind. “Oi,” He called, already starting to scale the moldy pile of wood and throwing pieces of it that stood in his way back outside of the gaping hole showing off the bleak gray sky above them. No response came from the other side beyond the twins crying louder and the sudden sound of their father’s voice, and something akin to worry began to creep up Richie’s throat. “Oi! You little shit, don’t fuck around! If you can hear me, fucking reply!” He yelled, once more getting no response.

The increased pace of his scaling and shifting of wood was completely ignored in lieu of his concern; he didn’t care if he looked weak.

Finally reaching the door and being able to force it open revealed _why_ Eddie had been unable to respond to Richie; the demon was protectively huddled over the twins that were nestled in his lap, clearly having been feeding them if his pulled-up shirt was anything to go by. Debris was all over the room, and on the mattress was a fairly large black smear of oily blood trailing from the side of Eddie’s head. Part of the roof was splintered over the mattress, painting a picture of what had happened rather easily.

Eddie had shielded the twins with his body from the falling roof and had been knocked out as a result.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Richie swore colorfully, clambering over the various piles of wreckage and shoving anything that was in his way back out of it. As soon as he reached Eddie, he went for the infants, trying to scoop them up carefully before he went to free Eddie. They were screaming in raw fear, wailing desperately for _someone_ to calm and help them. They were rightfully terrified—a baby was still a baby, be it an evil version of one or not. That, and from the looks of it, they were still hungry as well.

“Hush, hush, you’re fine. You’re fine. ‘M right here. You’re both fine,” He hissed, carefully scooping up little Michelle first and cradling her close with one arm then scooping up Lucille with the other. As soon as both were in his arms, Eddie stirred almost violently, eyes wide and panicked.

“ _G’ve ‘m bac’—! ‘ll f’ckin’ kill you—!_ ” He roared, trying to lunge at whatever had taken his infants from him and instead falling forward against Richie in a crumpled heap. He was still bleeding and distantly wondered if the hit had temporarily killed the smaller demon.

It would make sense; Eddie was barely moving and was still bleeding to the point that the shirt Richie wore was already becoming saturated with the acidic blood and burning away. “Oi,” The doll finally started, “It’s just me. Relax. Calm the fuck down, ‘m not gonna hurt ‘em.” He wasn’t really one for consoling— last time he’d tried, Eddie had been heavily pregnant and just ended up getting pissed at him.

But something was off.

Eddie was still slumped weakly against him, and finally, Richie’d had enough, pulling back slightly and watching in muted shock as Eddie let himself fall backward, showing off what had been hidden from Richie’s sight beforehand. Just under the curve of the psychotic demon’s skull was a _deep_ gash, showing off chunks of brain matter and clumps of hair alike. He definitely _had_ died, for a few minutes at the very least. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Richie breathed, watching Eddie sway weakly in his spot. Specks of blood kept spilling across the floor and the crumbled wood as the younger demon tried to heal, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

“What the hell happened up here?” And now _Bill_ was here. Fan- _fucking-_ tastic.

“What the fuck does it look like, dipshit? The roof caved in. Aren’t you supposed the be the smart one, Bill?” Richie snapped, instinctively turning away from the other and shielding Eddie and the twins from view.

“Why do you care? It’s just Eddie and your brats. He can move himself. We still have shit to do. Mike found some things and this—” Bill made a vague motion to Eddie, who had fallen back against the mattress and was still staring up at the hole in the ceiling with dazed eyes, “Isn’t important. Let’s go.”

Richie didn’t take too kindly to that.

“Ex-fucking- _cuse_ me? The strongest one of all of us has half his skull in pieces across the fucking floor and I’m supposed to leave him? Yeah, nice fucking try. Maybe next time Stan gets his fat fucking head stuck in one of Mike’s doors, you’ll just leave him there? Or maybe next time you flood our fucking basement, I’ll just tell him to drown himself in it?” Bill’s eyes narrowed, and he went up to Richie, face dark with barely-tamed fury. But he didn’t grab Richie— no, he went to grab at little Luci, who was borrowed against her father’s shoulder and clinging to him. At the rough grip on her porcelain cheeks, they cracked, and the infant began to shriek and wail in pain, trying to hide against Richie for protection as Bill forced her head forward. Richie tried to pull away, hugging Luci close against him but leaving Michelle a bit more open as a result.

Bill knew just as well as Richie that the younger of the twins was absolutely attached to her father, and easily scooped her up by the arm, holding her like a rag doll and watching boredly as her little unsupported head fell forward. She began to choke and wail brokenly, Richie scrambling to put Luci back on Eddie’s lap before snatching his youngest child back, cradling her almost fiercely close with one arm and using his free hand to completely slug Bill across the face.

The fact that it felt incredibly rewarding was something he assumed was related to the actual Richie.

“You will _not_ fucking touch them,” Richie said coldly, stalking over to where Bill had crashed into a pile of debris and gotten rather stuck. He stood over the group's leader with a frighteningly cold look in his eye, looking one look at the swelling bruises on his daughter’s neck and lifting his foot.

He dropped it back down onto Bill’s chest once, hearing bone crack underneath him and giving an unhinged little chuckle. “You _don’t_ fucking touch them or there won’t be _shit_ left for Eddie to maul! You fuckin’ understand me?! _You will not touch a fucking hair on their head!”_ His blows rained down onto Bill until the strawberry-blonde demon below him was a blooded messy of ceramic shards and a blown open chest, muscles and gore exposed and shredded to pieces from Richie’s body material. Bill just snarled bitterly, trying to force himself up and choking when Richie decided that, fuck it, he wasn’t done. “Honestly Big Bill, shattering my kid’s cheeks is a low fucking blow. But what’s even _lower_ is when you _break my other kid’s neck for no fucking reason!_ So you can fucking choose; shattered vocal chords to the point that you’ll finally be _just_ like the real Bill and not be able to say shit without stuttering like you’re a broken record player, or— Actually, no. We’re doing that—,” He happily grabbed a piece of the jagged, splintered wood that Bill was laying on and forced it into the soft flesh of Bill’s throat, laughing darkly as the demon’s head all but detached. “ _—As a thank you.”_

…

By the time his onslaught was finished, Richie had left Bill in a state similar to the piles of crumbled wood and drywall around them. Hell, some of the piles of the wreckage were lookin’ a little better than ol’ Big Bill at the moment.

Going back to the mattress where Luci was still crying in agony from her shattered cheeks, Richie scooped her up, holding her against him and trying to wrack his brain for ideas on what Eddie did whenever one of them would scream for hours on end. “Hush, kid— You’re fine. He can’t touch you again. He isn’t getting up for a while… You’re fine.” He said bluntly, looking over at little Michelle and the godawful smatterings of yellow and purple all over her tiny little neck. Had she not been grabbed by her father, Richie had a sinking feeling her head would have just snapped completely and then they would have to go through the whole process of trying to reattach it all over again.

But she was a _baby_ ; none of them had any ideas how babies worked because this was the only time any of them had ever been challenged enough to even _need_ to exist.

Looking over at Eddie, Richie could _see_ the bone slowly knitting and growing itself back together with a noise similar to that of mortar grinding on a pestle. Eddie was still staring at the ceiling, and Richie wondered if he had even been conscious during the onslaught. Once he awoke properly and saw what had been done to his children, there was no doubt in Richie’s mind that Bill would be left to regenerate from scratch— If Eddie didn’t try to just off and eat him first and make it clear that he wasn’t to be messed with about his children.

Honestly, even Richie was a bit tempted to do so.

Sighing, he decided that at _some_ point, Eddie would want a room that wasn’t full of splintered wood with a giant hole in the roof. So he placed both of the twins down against Eddie’s chest, forcing debris out of the way and—out of spite, shoving as much of it as he could on top of Bill’s mangled form. He only made the path clear enough as to be able to move Eddie’s shitty old mattress to the closest unaffected room, finding one just across the hall that was much smaller than their current one but also completely empty and unharmed by the cave-in.

Getting the mattress freed from the wreckage was the hard part.

…

Eddie awoke feeling like someone had smashed a brick over the back of his skull. A quick feel over the back of his head brought back clotted clumps of coagulated black blood and bits of his hair on his fingertips. Maybe that first statement was more accurate than he’d originally thought. But that was for a later moment; right now, he had other problems. One; this wasn’t his room, and two; his babies were not in his arms.

Moving immediately to go on a rampage to find them, instead, a cold ceramic arm stopped him in place. “They’re right here, calm down.”

Richie had them. Thank fuck, there were still decently safe.

“G’mme ‘em,” Eddie could barely get his words out. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his mind felt wooly and clogged— He could barely think without feeling as if his mind was trying to drag through molasses just to be coherent enough to understand. It was annoying and honestly a little disorienting, considering he had no clue where he was or what was happening. The last thing he _did_ remember was having _just_ gotten started on feeding Luci, and then it went into hazy, unreadable muck that he didn’t remember _anything_ about.

When Richie handed little Luci to him, his confusion turned to fear, then anger. Her little cheeks were cracked and clearly discolored from what had very obviously been a complete shattering of her porcelain skin. Turning to face Richie, he caught sight of little Michelle, who was currently heavily swaddled in Richie’s shirt and held close to him. She was deathly quiet, and upon just a bit of scanning her over, Eddie caught sight of the blackened bruises across her neck. Rage burned through his veins, and he growled low in his throat. “Wha’ th’ _fuck_ happened t’ her?!” His anger nearly boiled over any sort of speech impediment his brain may have been causing him.

Richie, though, looked… Ashamed? It was the same look Eddie had seen the _actual_ Richie give to the real Eddie when he’d found Eddie with a broken arm, screaming for help.

The look of anger and disappointment in failing to protect someone.

“Big Bill got pissed— The son of a bitch decided to shatter Luci’s cheeks then grab Michelle by her arm and let her hang like a fucking rag doll—her neck broke. Had I waited a second longer and her head woulda just broken off. He was pissed that I came up to get you three— So I taught him a lesson. He’s under all the shit that fell in your room— Give him a week and he might be in one piece again,” Richie was talking oddly— He still had their youngest child held close and was oddly hunched over her, the infant burrowed close against the large socket that made up his chest cavity.

Eddie was a bit surprised, and after a moment of quiet, he stared at Richie dead on. His mind finally seemed clear enough to properly form words, and he shifted to carefully cradle Luci against him, rubbing her tiny back and making that soft little chittering coo he always gave to soothe her. “You protected them… And me. Why? I thought you hated us? Thought we were just your fuck toy and brats? Change your mind?” He only teased because it was all he _knew_ how to do. They were never ones to be serious; certainly never loving or caring to each other.

The twins had been the ones to unveil the softer side of Eddie, and even that was a paltry example at best. They just weren’t made for such emotions. There was no use for love when their main goal was to feed— But they all knew well enough that It did what it did because it was pregnant and trying to feed its growing child.

Eddie now was more in-tune with their master than anyone else, and perhaps now Richie was as well.

“You ever think about me in any way that _isn’t_ viewing me as some asswad who only serves to make you miserable? Ben and Bev are happy. Stan and Bill are… Weird, but they at least go without calling the other some stupid insult every twenty-seven seconds. What the hell is your _issue_ with me?” Richie finally sighed, staring back at Eddie with those hollow, empty eyes that could only come from being a doll.

Eddie paused. He opened his mouth to speak, before letting it audibly snap shut. He didn’t really have an answer for that, and Richie scoffed bitterly.

“I knew it. Same as always— Even when I actually start to think, _Gee, maybe I could actually start tolerating the brats and start viewing--”_

“You made your fucking point, douchebag,” Eddie cut him off coldly. “I don’t _know_ why I do half the shit I do. Sometimes I just wanna sew your fucking mouth shut and sometimes I want you to hold me like some fucking baby and every time I bring up the second one you flip your shit I just stopped fucking asking and went right on along with the other stuff. Then these two come around and I have an _excuse_ to ask for the second thing again and you actually fucking _do_ it!” He laughed giddily at the memory, specifically the one where he’d started to cry and pout after sex and only calmed once Richie held him close. Had he also insisted he’d hated Richie at the time? Well, yeah, but that was beside the point.

The point was— Richie had never catered well to the ebbs and flows of Eddie’s needs so he just stuck with what worked and waited until some things grew to be too much to ignore. But this was new; Richie never showed interest on his own. Seems Richie picked up on that too. “I’m not built that way, dumbass. But fine— If you really want me to just treat you like one of the brats when you _really_ need it, I don’t give a fuck. Just don’t bitch at me if I’m not what you fucking want it to be,” The doll huffed, only to jolt in surprise when Eddie suddenly slid himself into his lap. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Doing what you said. Now gimme Michy,” Eddie hummed, exchanging little Luci with her younger sister and immediately softening. He went oddly quiet, his small fingers gingerly skimming over the bruises along his daughter’s neck and even wincing when she gave a weak noise of pain. His youngest child had wormed her way into his rotten heart and he knew it; he had once stayed up for two days straight when she had grown so hungry from lack of residual energy that not even the energy stored in Eddie’s ‘milk’ had been enough to soothe her. So Eddie had stayed up every second and manually fed her his own energy from his budded little breast until the milk become blood and then some. He would only admit to himself now that he truly did care for both of them; Michelle was the softest, most loving thing he’d ever experienced, and he was fiercely protective of her— Seeing her so broken and afraid, burrowed against him and trying to suckle weakly at her little thumb broke his heart into molding, crumpled pieces.

He started mumbling something near-silently to her, the familiar chittering coo returning to the air and alerting Richie to something. A closer inspection of the noise made him realize that what Eddie was mumbling _was_ the noise— Whatever he was mumbling was what he said every single time he calmed their little ones. Discreetly leaning his head a bit more forward, he picked up what Eddie was saying, only to stiffen in surprise.

“ _My sweet little baby girls, you know I’m never gonna let anyone touch you but me and your Papa. Buba and Papa love you both so much.. We’re so lucky we have you, my sweet little baby girls…”_ And it just repeated. But what was odd was that _that_ didn’t _sound_ like his Eddie. That sounded like the _real_ Eddie, and how he would speak to _his_ twins.

“You’re channeling him,” Richie finally spoke, realization creeping in. The increased affection, the odd mood swings and even his own increased protectiveness around the trio had Richie wondering if they were becoming so weak that their human selves were starting to influence them, or if they were growing strong enough to _become_ more human.

Eddie looked up, and for a minute those dead eyes seemed almost hazel under the light.

…

Calming Eddie down from his initial fury and distress at the injury of his babies was rather hard, and it took quite a few hours. But now, both twins fully healed and fast asleep while cradled between their parents, it was calm. Eddie was exhausted, having forced himself to feed both girls despite his lack of energy just so they were calm and healed. It left him utterly drained, and he ended up slumped against Richie’s shoulder, panting shallowly despite having fed the two almost twenty minutes prior.

“‘ch… ‘Chee… Mmm… Mm _hungry_ … M’ hea’ hur’s…” Barely able to understand the smaller demon, Richie looked at him, a thin, painted eyebrow raised curiously.

“And what do you suppose _I_ could do about it? Huh? I have no food either, idiot,” Richie huffed, only to feel Eddie just nod weakly against his shoulder and do that _thing_ — the same thing he’d unknowingly done when the twins had been born. He’d gone and taken all of their hunger and decided to ration his own until they were both content. He was left with the scraps while they were both rosy-cheeked and shyly snuggled against him for comfort. “ _Fuck_ ,” Richie hissed, trying to lift Eddie’s head up and instead feeling Eddie just barely jolt just enough to open his eyes before he went limp again. “God-dammit— C’mon, you little shit, I can’t go get food again, the last guy was a lucky fucking break—!” He snapped, still not getting any response.

He wasn’t panicking. Especially not as he pressed two cold, porcelain fingers into Eddie’s loosely hung-open jaw and siphoned his own energy into the smaller male, ignoring the ache of hunger just behind his navel as Eddie stirred and fluttered his eyelids. Eddie squirmed weakly within Richie’s hold, a worryingly-pale hand trying to reach up and grasp at Richie’s own but instead only just managing to get it to rise halfway before it limply flopped back down. “Quit moving,” Richie said warningly, seeing how sunken Eddie’s cheeks were and how sallow his already-translucent skin was. “Calm down and let it sink in. The brats— The girls are fine. Relax.” He said, slowly pulling his fingers out of Eddie’s mouth and sighing in relief when Eddie reluctantly nodded in understanding.

Pulling his small, psychotic boyfriend closer, Richie stayed dead quiet, completely unwilling to address the elephant in the room that _he_ had brought in in the first place. He _knew_ he’d fallen into his own trap and gained a soft spot for the tiny bastard, but again— Who was to say he wasn’t allowed to have a soft spot? They were stuck in whatever unholy bond they had together until the real Richie and Eddie called it quits, which didn’t seem very likely considering they now had two kids and had been going strong since they were teenagers.

Being bitter about it made no sense.

Sighing deeply, Richie shifted to rest against the back wall the mattress was resting against, watching as Eddie rested in his starving limbo and attempted to regain his place of ‘living’ in their little purgatory. As much as he hated doing it, Richie was still the best at conjuring, and while it was usually only for clothing, he managed to summon a decent sized blanket, pulling it over Eddie’s form and moving to carefully cradle both twins close to him as well. They were still fast asleep, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep them comfortable as well.

They were still a demented little family, whether he liked it or not, and he knew damn well that his actions within the past few hours had solidified his views on protecting them.

He cared; plain and simple.

…

For the first time in almost a day, Eddie awoke feeling _fine_ — as opposed to pain radiating from some area of his body. He was distantly aware of the two warm little bundles still nestled against his chest and instinctively pressed his lips against each of their foreheads, giving a tiny coo to each of them and simply _watching_ them for a minute. It wasn’t often he got to feel _this_ safe, especially now that the twins were in their world and at risk of falling into the demented hands of any of the other Losers. As Bill had proven, until another pair of them had kids, they were fucked. To the Losers, meat was meat and only Richie and Eddie held back the other five from making a meal of their kids.

“You awake?” Jumping at the low rumble of Richie’s voice in his ear, Eddie looked up, feeling his face heat up at how close he was to the older man— It felt oddly intimate, all things considered.

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbled, turning his head away but quickly giving an undignified squeak when the cool ceramic of Richie’s hand cupped his jaw and forced him to look back at him. “What?” He mumbled, his cheeks a little squished from the hold.

“Are you still hungry?” Eddie stared at him, trying to figure out if the doll was fucking around with him or not. He found nothing of the sort, instead seeing those normally blank eyes drawn into a worried little scowl.

Well I’ll be damned— He did give a whole-ass fuck!

As subconsciously as possible, Eddie let himself nuzzle towards the hand cupping his cheek, shaking his head ‘no’. “‘M fine. What’s up with you, anyways? Why are you being so… Cuddly?” The demented demon asked softly, looking back up at Richie and blinking in surprise when Richie just kept staring back at him.

“I do _listen_ to what you say, despite how stupid some of the shit that comes out of your mouth is. There’s no point in being bitter— We’re stuck together until Wheezy and Trashmouth have a fallout, and somehow I don’t think they’re going to be inclined to do that any time soon,” Richie finally explained, still holding Eddie’s cheek and absentmindedly stroking his thumb over the smattering of freckles across his boyfriend’s cheek.

Eddie flushed, feeling oddly vulnerable and instinctively tugging the blanket draped across him closer. “So you’re—?”

“Trying to do what you said you like. Cuddling— Shit like that,” Richie seemed to be a little blunt, and Eddie tilted his head. Being made of porcelain meant Richie couldn’t blush, but his mannerisms—How he was fidgeting with the material of Michelle’s little baby blanket, how his eyebrows were drawn up sheepishly high and his lack of looking directly at him.

“You’re trying to be soft?” Eddie hummed cheekily, a coy smile peeking over his face and dimpling his cheeks.

Richie just huffed, grabbing Eddie’s face with both hands and squishing his cheeks together slightly as he did. “If I say yes, will you stop with that stupid look?” He asked, Eddie nodding and giggling in response. The black-haired male heaved out an annoyed sigh, rolling his eyes before clearing his throat. “Then yeah, I’m trying to be— That. I’m not saying the fucking word, though.”

Eddie just laughed again, and something in the hollow chest cavity Richie carried ached. There was nothing gorgeous about the little shit as it was; his greasy mess of chestnut hair, the permanent dirty look of the male thanks to his black blood, and of course his horrible temper— Add the dried blood on his shirt and head, the thin streaks of dried smear of tears across his cheeks and he looked like he was freshly freed from a nearby grave.

And yet the little shit had managed to burn heat within Richie’s chest that felt an awful lot like being horny, but— In his chest?

“What’s that look about?” Eddie finally asked, snapping his hand in front of Richie’s face and squeaking when Richie grasped his hand and grunted dismissively.

“You gave my heart a boner,” Richie said bluntly, Eddie staring at him as if he’d grown a second head before he burst out laughing.

“You’re in _love_ ~!” He crooned, Richie’s blank eyes going wide and hand dropping from his cheek. Instead, both hands grabbed over Eddie’s mouth, now visibly flustered and shaking his head.

“Shut your fucking mouth you little shit—!” The doll hissed, Eddie just shrugging and easily taking advantage of how Richie was holding him. He opened his mouth and began suckling teasingly on Richie’s fingers, only pulling away once Richie yanked his hand away.

“If you’re gonna pull that shit, summon a fucking cradle for the girls and put them there,” Richie huffed firmly, Eddie giving him a pout.

“You do it,” The smaller demon huffed back, his lower lip plump with his stubborn pout. Richie just snorted in annoyance, watching as Eddie summoned a little cradle for the two infants. “There. You wanna be soft? Help put them to bed~”

Richie glowered at him for a moment, before grunting. “Fine. But when I come back over here you better be ready… I can feel how wet you are just from my fingers in your mouth,” He taunted, Eddie flushing darkly and sticking out his oily, black little tongue.

“Shuddup and go get them to bed,” Eddie insisted, handing both infants off to their father and shifting so Richie could get up.

Richie just rolled his eyes and carefully stood, holding each infant rather close as he crossed the room to the cradle. Sighing, he gently placed down little Luci first, feeling that weird tug in his chest when she fussed weakly and tried to reach innocently for her father to hold her again. “Hush, you’re fine. We’re not going anywhere,” He grunted, just getting another pitiful whimper in response and sighing. “Fine,” He sighed, gently stroking his finger over her own porcelain cheek until she quieted.

Michelle was much harder to put down; the infant was clutching to him desperately,  her little face scrunched up and loud whimpers spilling from her. “Hey, c’mon, calm down. You’re fine. We’re still in the room, Big Bill is in a pile of mush in the other room. No one's gonna hurt you… Alright? Calm down,” Richie tried to coax her, awkwardly cradling her and hesitantly rubbing at her tiny little back. The little thing just snuffled pathetically, her tiny fist reaching up to rub at her eyes. Richie just sighed once more, very slowly and gently placing her down next to her sister and watching as the younger of the two immediately tried to curl up against her older sister.

“Hmph,” Richie snorted softly, carefully stroking his hand over each of their chubby cheeks again before turning around, “Stupid cute little brats.”

…

Eddie had watched the whole interaction with a hand down his pants and his shirt stuffed into his mouth to stay quiet; didn’t wanna clue Richie in on what was happening, after all. When Richie turned around, he was met with Eddie, looking just barely a healthy weight thanks to the pregnancy and still oddly small against the tiny swell of his chest and abdomen.

Sure, he’d jerked Eddie off in the tub a few times, but since the twins had been born, Eddie had been stubborn as hell and would refuse to let Richie fuck him. He had at the time insisted it was punishment for his little stunt when Eddie had been giving birth, but now the doll was convinced it was just because Eddie wanted to be a little shit.

“Couldn’t even wait for me to put them to bed?” The black-haired man asked, Eddie just making an odd noise and squirming oddly. He didn’t respond, and Richie raised an eyebrow, crossing back over to the smaller demon and kneeling in front of him. Eddie sat up, suddenly grabbing at him and kissing him. Richie was dragged down against him, grunting in surprise and pushing his knee between the other man’s legs.

Eddie whined weakly in the doll’s mouth, stringy black spittle connecting them and leaving Richie’s tongue burning in his mouth as he pulled away. “Mm… ‘Chee… You wanna show me you can be soft to me too?” He cooed, only to give a weak yelp of surprise when Richie easily pushed him down.

“You really want me to fuck you soft?” He asked, Eddie seeming oddly flushed and staring up at him. He swallowed thickly, an odd feeling curling harshly in his stomach at the sight of Richie perched above him, blank eyes focused on him.

“N—No,” Eddie croaked out, feeling very oddly vulnerable and squirming as Richie skimmed an icy hand over his chest, down over his navel and to the swell of his hips.

Richie perked up an eyebrow; “What’s your problem? You’re being quiet for once.” He said, Eddie swallowing thickly and biting his lip.

“I feel weird,” He admitted, “That weird, shitty feeling that I had when I asked you to cuddle me that one time a few months ago and you did but then started talking shit again… I don’t even know why the fuck I’m telling you, this is stupid—”

“You feel it too.” Richie’s words cut into Eddie jarringly deep, and he actually gave a tiny shudder, staring up at Richie and grabbing his hand. He moved it to just below his navel, his breath hitching at how the icy cold of his boyfriend’s hand suddenly felt burning hot over the spot.

“What the fucking shit?” Eddie laughed breathlessly; the heat was completely foreign and he shuddered, trying to tug the black-haired demon closer to him. “Feels so hot ‘n _good_ … _Why_ does it feel so good?” He finally whispered, seeming almost _confused_ by it.

Something hot and protective burned in Richie’s chest, and he instinctively pulled Eddie against him, his free hand tangling into the brunet’s greasy curls. “Doesn’t fucking matter. Shut up and get over here,” He ordered, Eddie nodding and gladly letting Richie dip down and kiss him breathless. Not that he _needed_ to breathe, but he felt unnaturally fragile with the lack of it, his small hands clutching to the sockets of Richie’s shoulders tightly.

“Mm… _Please_ …” He whined against the older demon’s lips, feeling the heated hand on his stomach dip into his pants and jolting heatedly. “ _Nnn—!”_ He forced his teeth into his bottom lip, trying to stay quiet for the sake of the twins and whining pathetically as Richie stroked over his soaked little core.

“Relax,” Richie soothed, almost in a lull of calm, “You’re fine. ‘M just gonna make you feel good. Hold on and trust me. And keep quiet,” He explained slowly, Eddie nodding and letting himself press his head into Richie’s shoulder socket with a soft whine.

That was just the start of it.

Eddie was quickly worked into a whining, whimpering mess of squirming gasps and unhurried little bucks towards the cool fingers fucking languidly into his soaked core. Richie was achingly hard against his thigh and despite his mouth frustration, the tiny demon was stubborn as a mule every time Richie tried to move. Clinging to the taller demon now like a demented koala, said demon wasn’t impressed as just how needy Eddie had become with such little touch. But Eddie had gone quiet after a few more minutes of the teasing onslaught, his gasps becoming hitched squeaks and body tightening its grip on his boyfriend. Some of Richie’s porcelain began to crack, and he paused, not wanting to awaken the girls with their parents fooling around.

“What?” Though it came out as an annoyed hiss, the sultry, low rumble of his voice in Eddie’s ear had the brunet shuddering.

“W’nna be _close_ … Mm, cuddle ‘n fuck… Ya feel so _good_ , ‘Chee…” Eddie babbled, gasping when in a swift motion, Richie’s pants were replaced with bare legs and the sight of his boyfriend’s cock, hard and thick against the ball socket that made up his torso. Eddie keened underneath him, letting his legs spread open and shuddering as Richie paused to smear his fingers over the thick amount of slippery black slick that was soaked between Eddie’s thighs.

“Ugh,” Richie snorted, “Just shut up and do what you want.” He insisted, only to jolt in surprise when he felt the smaller demon yank him down close and clutch to him possessively.

“Okay. Done,” Eddie hummed cheekily, peeking his head up from Richie’s shoulder to instead lean over and kiss him again. Richie groaned low in his throat, dominating the kiss with ease and watching as Eddie just fell apart underneath him with needy little mewls. He pressed Eddie down against the hardened mattress, pulling away to press Eddie’s legs apart instead.

“Nn… ‘Chee, I wanna _watch_ ….!” Eddie fussed, as seeing the mop of curls on his boyfriend’s head was in the way of his view.

“Calm down. You’re gonna fucking watch, all right? Gimme a second you impatient little shit,” Richie ordered, Eddie quieting down and pouting as he felt the thick head press against his entrance. He whined weakly, trying to press his hips forward.

“ _Rich—!”_ Eddie whined again, clutching at Richie’s hair and yanking it up so it no longer blocked his view. Instead, he was met with the sight of his poor little cunt, blown wide by the fattened head of Richie’s cock, one of Richie’s hands guiding it forward. Richie looked rather embarrassed, staring at Eddie quietly before fucking into him in one rough, smooth motion.

Eddie’s eyes went wide, and he stiffened, a noise of pain and delight trying to force its way up his throat. He writhed weakly, a strangled sob wrenching out of his tightly-shut lips and face going dark with flush. The hand gripping Richie’s hair instead moved to the visible bulge in his abdomen, groping at it desperately as he finally choked out a sob. “Oh _fuck_ —!” He hissed, clenching down roughly around his boyfriend’s thickened cock with a needy whimper.

“Get it now?” Richie said bluntly, not getting a response and frowning. “Oi, what? What’s wrong with you?” He asked, being met with Eddie peeking open his eyes, smeared black with his inky tears.

“‘S so _big_ —! You fuckin’ _grew_ it—!” Eddie fussed, pulling his hand away from the grotesque bulge in his abdomen to instead grab at Richie’s shoulders and yank him close. He clung to the doll desperately, rocking his hips with a needy whimper, a burst of heat soaking between his thighs that Richie quickly realized was oily blood.

“Hey, fuck, calm down—”

“Don’ move yet,” Eddie cut the older demon off, his voice raw and oddly high-pitched. Richie obliged him, carefully moving to hold the smaller demon so he would stop shaking. The brunet was burrowed close against him, head nuzzled within Richie’s shoulder socket and breathing shallow.

It took almost ten minutes for Eddie to relax enough to let the doll move without stirring up a fuss. Richie felt oddly vulnerable, slowly drawing his hips back before he fucked them forward into the impossibly tight heat. He hadn’t really meant to have his cock thicken anyways; he was pent up. It had been a month and no amount of jerking off fixed the lack of his boyfriend’s delicious little cunt. But no matter how much he _wanted_ to just violently pound into the smaller demon, every time he went to, Eddie would give the tiniest, weakest little moan of pain and he would stop.

It just felt _wrong_ to go that hard when Eddie was clutching to him and tucked against him for dear life.

By the time heat began to pool low in his belly, slowly burning hot with a need for release, Eddie had just melted into a needy, whining pile of goo underneath him. He’d started crying, babbling weakly in Richie’s ear that it felt so good and that his pussy was just completely and utterly soaked from how good it felt. He wouldn’t shut up; eventually, Richie had gotten tired of it and had kissed the psychotic demon quiet, biting at his bottom lip and hissing at the acidic blood that burned holes in his tongue. Distantly, he felt his maggots start to slip into Eddie’s mouth, Eddie squeaking within his mouth and swallowing down the wriggling mouthful of cool blood and gore needily.

“Nn— Gonna— Gonna _cum_ —!” Eddie croaked, his voice absolutely _fucked_ as the maggots he’d swallowed began their feast on the juicy muscle of his throat and vocal chords.

“Then cum,” Richie huffed, feeling Eddie tense underneath him and making a noise of surprise when Eddie suddenly clung to him in a death grip, a raw, garbled cry just barely escaping him before white-hot slick soaked between where they were connected. Eddie was clutching to the doll until the porcelain cracked underneath his harsh grip. Tears had dribbled down his cheeks, his face pinched in a blissed-out high as he rode out the high.

Richie just watched, jolting in surprise when Eddie grabbed his hand and pressed it against his face, cooling the hot tears on his skin. “What?” He asked breathily, fucking his hips forward again and drifting his free hand down to stroke roughly at the hardened nub of Eddie’s clit.

“Hnnh— C-Can’t— Can’t _help it_ …!” The brunet slurred, “F-Feels like ‘m still cummin’ ‘n it feels so _good_ —!”

“Hm. Cute. You think you’re gonna cum again when your freaky little womb gets flooded with my cum?” Richie asked, Eddie nodding violently and crying out hoarsely as he felt said heat suddenly flood into him. He bucked and thrashed underneath his boyfriend, the crawling, wriggling maggots within his most intimate area making him writhe.

“M-More—!” The tinier demon begged, still clinging to Richie’s hand and sobbing into it as Richie gladly obliged him.

“There’s never enough for you, is there?” The doll taunted, Eddie just making a weak noise of acknowledgement.

Richie knew the other wasn’t going to respond; both of them knew there was _never_ enough maggots for the twisted little freak that Eddie was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope yall enjoyed. If you want more, request it, but otherwise, this is the end of the story! I know I said that the last two times but I'm always willing to write more if people have an interest!!!


	4. Breach of Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike thinks the group is strong enough to try and pull a new trick to feed on the fear of the very same Losers they mirror. Richie and Eddie, with the most power to hold fear over their new-parent counterparts, are forced to take the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hah two chapters in one day? what am i, a constant author??

“You honestly think we’re strong enough for something like this, Mike?” Ben asked. They were in a meeting, circled in the parlor room of the crumbling house on Neibolt Street.

“It’s been warmer out, kids have been out trying to see what the snow took out while they can. We’re all stronger than a few weeks ago. Can’t hurt to try, right?” Mike quipped back, leaning back on the molding armchair he was sitting on.

“Mind control is a tricky thing, Mike. A kid thinks it’s a nightmare and nothing else and it’s a waste of our energy if we can’t do it more than once. We need a target that _know_ s to fear us,” Stan argued calmly from his seat on the floor.

“Why not go for us?” Bev asked, Mike giving her an impassive look.

“If they think It’s back before we’re ready and they come snooping, we’re screwed. We can’t take them on now. That’s too big of a risk,” He explained with a dismissive shake of his head, only for Bill to raise his hand in protest.

“Why not go for the ones who already fear a lot as it is?” He asked, Mike turning to look at him in confusion.

“And who would that be? No one has been any different than they have since—”

“The t-twins.” Bill cut him off, “New puh-parents are terrified and fuh-flighty of fucking eh-everything,” He paused to give Richie a dark look, getting a violent look from Eddie and ignoring them both, “Guh-go for Trashy and Wuh-wheezy. See h-how they take t-to it. Th-that’s a good _month_ of m-meals of them _thinking_ w-we’re back, b-but not. Get t-their brats in on it t-too and c-consider it two months of p-puh-proper meals.”

Mike mulled the information over, ignoring the indignant looks from Richie and Eddie on the couch and nodding. “It could work… But all four would have to be in the same dream at once. On _both_ sides… Eight people linked via telepathy is a huge amount of energy… Whoever hosts it is gonna have to find food before we do it or they’re fucked,” He hummed.

Bill raised an eyebrow. “F-Fuh-finding one thing of f-fuh-food won’t be t-that hard. If I f-find you s-suh-some shitty hobo, y-you can p-pull it off, r-ruh-right?” He asked, Mike nodding in confirmation. “T-Then we d-do it.”

Neither Eddie nor Richie got a word in of protest before everyone was off to go start preparations.

—————

Eddie didn’t get a full night of sleep too often. The twins would constantly wake each other up, often wanting different things— Luci would wail to be fed and awaken her younger sister, who then would be rocked back to sleep, only to awaken the moment she was placed back in her bassinet to wail to be fed as well.

It was an arduous cycle that left both himself and Richie exhausted. A full night of sleep was a luxury neither of them could often afford.

Finally catching a break was something he was incredibly grateful for. He was slipping into his pajamas for the night, a simple old t-shirt of Richie’s an some well-worn flannel pants that never failed to leave Eddie cozy and calm no matter the situation. From across the hall of their condo, the brunet could hear Richie coaxing both of their little ones to bed, and smiled softly at the fact that there was no incessant wailing or crying coming from the nursery as well. He went to brush his teeth in their master bathroom, washing his face as well and hoping that the night of rest would ease the swollen purple bags under his eyes.

Parenthood had been something he and Richie were suddenly thrust upon. The pregnancy itself had been a terrifyingly long journey that in all honesty, Eddie wasn’t sure he was going to survive in one piece. Now, after eight-and-a-half months of very mixed emotions about the whole thing, almost thirteen hours of labor and a month and a half later, here they were. Raising twin little girls who had stolen Eddie’s heart the instant they were in his arms.

“You done spacing out over here so I can brush my teeth Eds?” Eddie nearly dropped his toothbrush as he jumped in surprise at the sudden voice in his ear.

“ _Jesus_ , Rich! Don’t scare me like that!” Eddie huffed through a mouth full of foam, spitting out the minty bubbles and washing off his toothbrush after taking a sip of water to wash his mouth out.

“Hey, relax. I didn’t mean to scare ya. I did knock before I came over,” Richie soothed, going over to the smaller man and hugging him warmly in apology. Eddie just sighed, melting into the warm embrace far too easily and letting his head rest on Richie’s shoulder.

“Mm… Shuddup, ‘m tired, okay? Luci was collicky all last night. You should be proud I managed to function this long without even a nap.”

Richie chuckled, pressing a kiss on the crown of Eddie’s forehead and lightly rubbing his back. “I know, bub. It’s alright, I’m just teasin’ ya. Why don’t you go get cozy in bed and I’ll meet you there in a few minutes, hm? You can cuddle me all you want… You want me to rub your back when I get back in?” The low, calm rumble if Richie’s face had Eddie growing drowsy, and he nodded, reluctantly slipping out of his husband’s embrace.

“Yeah,” He started, stifling a yawn and trying his best not to just slip right back into the crook of Richie’s arms and just make him get ready for bed for the night while hugging him.

“Alright sleepy bug, off to bed before you fall asleep standing. I’ll be in in just a sec,” Richie hummed affectionately, gently turning Eddie to face the doorway and giving him a little push towards the bed. Eddie didn’t have to be told twice, happily slipping under the heavy warmth of their duvet and nearly dozing off just in the three minutes it took for Richie to brush his teeth and use the bathroom before climbing into bed with him.

“Mm… Buba… You turn the baby monitor on?” Eddie slurred tiredly, Richie giving a soft noise of confirmation.

“Mmhm… Get some sleep, baby. I’ve got it all taken care of,” The older male crooned, rubbing his fingers over the soft material of Eddie’s t-shirt as he cradled the man close to his chest. Eddie just gave a sleepy smile, out like a light within minutes and drooling on Richie’s shoulder as soon as he was asleep.

While adorable, the sight ended up completely konking Richie out within minutes as well. All seemed peaceful, but unfortunately for the little family of four, it wasn’t as it seemed.

…

“This is fucking bullshit,” Eddie snarled, the tiny demon holding a _very_ unhappy Luci in his arms and struggling to keep her calm.

Mike had knocked him and his family out as soon as he was full enough to successfully attempt their plan. ‘Waking up’ in the Neibolt House, but clearly from when they had last interacted with the real Losers Club, at first, Eddie had been unable to find his babies, and had just about lost it trying to find them. They were in Richie’s doll room, which he’d been furious about, finally scooping them up once Richie made himself known and ordering they wait in the living room until the actual Richie and Eddie showed up.

They had been waiting for almost an hour, and Eddie was about ready to just sabotage the whole thing and insist that the real Eddie and Richie couldn’t be summoned.

Then he heard the crash from upstairs of someone falling and two twin whimpers.

There they were.

…

Awakening in a house Eddie had never wanted to be in ever again, he realized very quickly that this was the same hallway he’d been in when he crashed through the floor all those years ago. He shuddered, gasping out a weak sob of shock and creeping backwards hesitantly. Then he heard it; the shallow breathing of the leper just behind him, raw and wet and making his stomach ball and curl violently in disgust.

“T-This isn’t real,” He hissed to himself, “This is a nightmare. O-One of those PTSD flashbacks— This isn’t real,” Repeating the words like a mantra, he pinched his arm, only to yelp in pain at the harsh sting it provided.

It shouldn’t have hurt.

There was a crash just to his left, and he jumped, rushing to the source of the sound if only on instinct.

“Eds?!” Oh fuck, why did his mind have to bring Richie into it too?!

“R-Rich?! I-I’m here!” Eddie called, trying to force his voice to stop shaking when he heard something that made his blood go icy cold. The squeaky wail of his youngest child, helpless and scared and desperate for her mother. Then, just behind it, the louder, pitching cry of his firstborn, almost angry and deafeningly loud as always. He hadn’t had a nightmare since before they had been born, and now his mind had gone and dragged them into it too. “R-Richie— We need to find the girls!” He yelled in panic, uncaring if he was going against everything his teenage self had been told repeatedly not to do; he got scared.

Scrambling to the source of the sound, he found a room with a single bassinet and a dirty mattress, the sobs coming from the bassinet and making something odd churn in his stomach. Uncaring, he bolted over to the infant, scooping her up without a second thought and cradling her close, calmingly bouncing her in his arms and rubbing her back. “Shh, shh… It’s okay darling, I’m right here. You’re okay, honey. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you,” He cooed, maternal instincts kicking in and forcing any fear he had out the window.

His baby needed him, and that was that. Sure, she was in a horribly ratty old blanket and was shaking as she clung to him, but he didn’t care.

He had her safe and that was all he needed before he went to find Richie and his firstborn.

…

Coming-to in the same room of dolls where he’d faced Pennywise up-close was not something Richie enjoyed. Nightmares, however bad they were, had never been _this_ unnerving. He felt like he’d been lifted from his bed and dropped back into the Neibolt Street house without warning.

“It isn’t real,” He whispered, hearing something from across the room and stiffening. “Eds?!” He called cautiously.

“R-Rich?! I-I’m here!” The raw tremor of fear in Eddie’s voice shot down any doubt Richie had of it being the horribly fucked-up version of Eddie he’d met as a child.

From a distance, he heard Michelle let out a squeaking wail, then, just across the room, heard the loud, screeching cry of his eldest daughter, heart dropping to his stomach.

Why did his mind have to bring his kids into it? They didn’t deserve the trauma of this hellish house of horrors, even if it wasn’t real. Who _knows_ how scared they would be if they had been dragged into a nightmare like this.

“R-Richie— We need to find the girls!” Eddie’s voice rang through the thin walls, and before he could reply, the black-haired man heard his husband run off towards the direction of Michelle.

He was left with the defeaning screams of Luci right in front of him. Forcing himself out of his stupor, he forced his way through the mounds of clowns and puppets, nearly gagging when he realized the wailing was coming from the closed coffin in front of him.

“ _Fuck—_ Luci, honey, Papa’s gonna get you out of there! It’s okay, sweetie!” He called, steeling his nerves and forcing the coffin open.

Gagging openly, he was met with the sight of what _seemed_ to be his daughter, but was clearly _not_. She was made of the same porcelain that the doll in the coffin had been when he was thirteen— But she was wailing, wrapped up in the same little onesie he’d put her to bed in only a short time before. Fat, grimy tears were streaming down her cheeks and she was helplessly reaching in the air for someone to hold her, just as she did when he would hear the baby monitor go off in the middle of the night and find her crying for food or a diaper change.

“What? Not gonna help her?” Jumping a foot in the air at the sudden voice behind him, Richie stiffened as it registered that that was _his_ voice ringing back in his ears— tinny and cold like tapping on a ceramic plate.

“Maybe you wanna help _this_ one, then?” Richie turned, only to see what was _definitely_ his daughter in the arms of the doll that had been in the coffin, held mockingly close and cradled carefully.

“Put her down,” Richie croaked, the doll just sighing boredly and shaking his heard with a screeching chitter.

“I can hold my kid if I fucking want to,” It said, Richie feeling his breathe stutter.

“T-Trade me then,” He croaked, turning and carefully scooping up the wailing, doll-like version of his infant daughter. The fact that she instantly quieted and burrowed against him, the cool stone of her cheek nestling against his shoulder had him wanting to vomit. She weighed just as much as his own daughter did, and her mannerisms were exactly the same— Was this seriously some demented, doll-like version of his firstborn?

“Fine,” The doll sighed again, walking closer and calmly exchanging the human infant in his arms for his demonic offspring. As soon as the _real_ Luci was in his arms, clutching to him desperately and letting out a fearful sob, Richie hugged her close, slowly sliding to his knees as he held her. Sobs began to wrack his gangly form, fear creeping into every corner of his heart as she began to cry weakly against him. She was terrified, as was he, and all Richie could do was hold her close and try to protect her from the terrifying dolls in front of them.

The doll was oddly quiet, and Richie slowly looked up, only to feel confusion smack him square in the chest as he watched the doll carefully hold its own infant close, gently stroking her cheeks and mumbling some curse-riddled babble to her that he wasn’t going to let Mike fuck with her again.

“What the fuck?” Richie hissed.

“What,” The doll snorted, “You think I don’t give a fuck about my kid? Be fuckin’ grateful _I_ showed up. I coulda let Eds have ya… He doesn’t act too nice when people touch our brats,” He said calmly, Richie going dead stiff.

“ _Eddie._ ”

…

Sure, it had been a part of the plan to switch their babies out with the real ones, but _fuck_ if seeing the real Eddie cradle _his_ baby close didn’t have Eddie’s black blood boiling under his skin.

“Shh, shh… It’s okay darling, I’m right here. You’re okay, honey. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you,” The real Eddie cooed, making Eddie snarl through his teeth. The human Michelle was fast asleep in his arms, snuggled against his shoulder despite the fact that he wasn’t her mother.

“What kind of mother doesn’t even look and make sure that the baby they’re holding is really theirs?” He finally asked, watching with a giggle as the Eddie in front of him went stiff as a board.

“I-I’m a father, not a mother,” He spoke, “A-and this— This isn’t fucking real. So fuck off. It’s dead— It’s not coming back and my mind is just fucking with me.”

“Really?” Eddie cooed back, stalking up to him and letting his hand transform into that of the leper’s, creeping up over Eddie’s shoulder just as it had before he fainted into the hole in the floor. “ _Do you really think that’s going to work again, Eddie?”_ He croaked, letting his face transform into the lepers and laughing as Eddie gagged violently and wrenched himself away from the demon, cradling what he thought was his Michelle’s head close to his shoulder.

“You’re not real—!” Eddie yelled, his eyes wrung shut and body curled over the infant in his arms.

The demon in front of him just watched angrily as _his_ baby was held so close. That was _his_ baby— No one touched her but him and Richie, and she couldn’t do a thing about it. His patience snapped when Michelle fussed and Eddie instinctively quieted her, whispering that he wasn't going to let the _thing_ in front of them touch her.

“ _That’s_ **_my_ ** _baby you fucking idiot!”_ Eddie finally screeched, the human infant in his arms starting to squeak and wail at the sudden loud noise. Eddie, the real one, stiffened, hearing the achingly familiar wail of his youngest child come from the arms of the demon in front of him and choking on his own air.

A quick glance down at the little one still clinging to him, with her grimy skin, inky tears all over her cheeks and black veins running under her translucent skin, proved that this was, in fact, _not_ his baby.

“Gimme her.”

“ _Gimme her_.”

The fact that it was stated at the same time, one of their voices much more furious and raw with anger, only furthered the helpless wails from the human Michelle, who was now _very_ scared and starting to upset her demonic counterpart.

The real Eddie, more than willing to risk his life for the safety of his child, stared the Neibolt’ed version of himself down with a furious glare, holding out the wriggling infant in his arms without question and trading her with _his_ child silently. Surprisingly, it was the mirror Eddie that sprung back as if he’d been burned, forcing himself in a corner and snarling darkly at the human in front of him before his attention fell to his daughter. She was curled up in a ball against him, hiccuping and whimpering as he held her close and hid her frown view with his body as a shield.

The human Eddie slowly let his guard down, stumbling back against the wall on the opposite side of the room and tucking his legs against his chest, holding his child close and letting out a weak sob of relief as soon as her wails stopped. “I’m right here, sweetie. Buba’s right here, I promise, I’m not going anywhere,” He sobbed out, rocking her near desperately in an attempt to calm _himself_ down.

The door bursting open is what finally completed the puzzle. Richie, red in the face and holding a _very_ frightened Luci, stood at the doorway, the doll version of himself in tow.

“Eddie—!” He croaked, Eddie looking up and giving a broken cry of relief at the sight of his husband and daughter— Except—

“Is that _our_ baby?!”

“Is that _our_ baby?!”

The fear in their voices had the demonic Eddie laughing violently from his corner. “You better not still be holding my fucking baby!” He shrieked, Richie jumping back before making a split-second decision and diving for _his_ Eddie, shielding his family with his body and carefully pressing Luci into her mother’s arms. Eddie gave her a quick check, sniffling weakly as he nodded in confirmation that this _was_ their daughter.

“Calm the fuck down. _I_ have the brat you little shit. Shut up,” The doll spoke, going over and hissing in annoyance as his boyfriend snatched the infant from his grasp with an angry growl.

“Fucking _try_ me you useless tool! Because unless want me to make you into a new fucking _plate_ when I’m done with you, you better shut your mouth or I’ll _sew it shut!”_

The doll just sighed, rolling his eyes and snorting when he saw that the human version of himself was still huddled protectively over his family, face drawn into a furious glare but body quivering visibly in the low light. “Aw, what happened? I thought that _this wasn’t real, Richie?”_ He mocked, his voice matching that of Bill’s. Two pieces of paper fluttered down, and Richie only needed to catch a _glimpse_ of one of them for him to grab both pieces and furiously rip them into shreds with shaking hands.

“Leave them _out of this_ ,” He snarled, “They’re _babies_ , they didn’t do _shit—!”_

“You think we give a fuck? Food is food,” The doll said bluntly, watching his human reflection snarl in anger.

“If that’s the case then why haven’t you just fucking eaten _yours_?!” He yelled.

Uh-oh.

The demonic Eddie went stiff as a board, and the doll tensed.

“No one touches my babies,” The Eddie spoke eerily, uncurling from around his set of twins and popping his neck, “No one _eats_ my fucking babies. They’re _mine!”_ He howled, uncaring if his weakness was now on open display. “ _I fucking made them and carried them and if_ **_It_ ** _gets to carry_ **_hers_ ** _and keep it then_ **_I_ ** _get to keep mine!”_

Richie gaped, but before he could speak, he caught sight of the horrified look that painted its way onto the doll’s face.

Then the whole world just shattered, as if it had been hit by a baseball bat.

…

“You _fucking idiot!”_ Mike roared as soon as Eddie awoke, his head fuzzy and stomach aching for food.

“ _Fuc’ off_ ,” He slurred, feeling someone try to grab the children in his arms and shrieking violently, tugging them close with a protective snarl.

“You fucking _told them_ that _It’s pregnant!_ And for _what?!_ Your fucking _brats?!”_ Mike was furious; this could have detrimental consequences if the real Losers Club caught word of it. Eddie could have just killed them all just to protect the little brats in his arms.

Eddie scoffed. “If you think I’m gonna fucking _let you_ say that shit about my babies and _not_ end up like Bill, you’re _wrong_ ,” He said darkly, feeling Richie stir next to him and giggling giddly. “Look! ‘Chee’s awake too! He can hold them while I _turn your entire fucking body into a sock puppet for me to tear to fucking shreds!”_ He was laughing madly with raw delight, not even waiting for a response before he was forcing the twins into Richie’s arms and lunging at the dark-skinned man in front of him.

Richie just watched calmly, stroking a hand over the backs of his offspring. He already knew it was over— Eddie had lost sight of their mission and ended up in the exact same seat their creator sat.

He was doing it for his kids, and nothing was going to stop him.

Richie wasn't going to get in his way.

That little shit was fucking insane.

…

Anything was better than waking up in the Neibolt house, and thankfully, Eddie awoke in _his_ bed. Beside him, the baby monitor was screeching with the wails of _both_ children, and his blood ran cold.

There was no way they could have had a nightmare, too? Certainly not the same one, either.

But god, looking over at Richie as he crawled out of bed, Richie’s face was pinched in fear and he was pale. Cursing, Eddie slipped out of bed, grabbing his robe and pulling it on before he went across the hallway to the nursery. Unfortunately, both girls were sobbing and screaming their little lungs out, flailing desperately for their parents to calm them.

“H-Hey, shh, it’s okay,” Eddie croaked, scooping up Michelle first, then Luci, and padding over to the rocking chair, cradling both of them close as they wailed, “I-It’s okay, sweeties, Buba’s right here. N-Nothing… Nothing can hurt you. I’m right here, your Papa is okay… It’s okay,” He whispered, holding them both incredibly close and gently rubbing their backs.

“Eds?” Eddie yelped, hugging both infants closer at the sudden presence at the doorway. When he saw it was just Richie, the brunet relaxed, sighing deeply in relief and trying to give him a weak smile.

“H-Hey… They uh… They had a nightmare, I think,” The younger man explained, Richie looking uncomfortable.

“They did too, huh?” He asked, Eddie feeling nausea creep up his throat. “What?” Richie frowned, seeing the look on Eddie’s face.

“I— Y-You had one too?” He whispered, feeling his lower lips quiver. “What— What was it about?” He asked, feeling his breath starting to hitch unevenly.

“I was— All four of us were in the house on Neibolt,” Richie admitted, watching as Eddie’s face absolutely crumpled in horror. A weak sob slipped past the man’s lips, and Richie rushed over to him, cupping his cheek and whispering soothing little nothings to him. “Hey, hey, baby, breathe for me. It’s okay. You’re okay. Maybe it was just— Just some freak incident, okay? It wasn’t real, baby, I promise.”

“All four of us had the same dream, Richie—! _It_ could be back—!” Eddie was panicking, his chest seizing up and breathing coming out in stuttering little gasps.

“Eds, please, calm down, baby. It’s okay,” Richie cooed, carefully scooping Eddie up while both infants were nestled safely against their mother. “Let’s get back in bed, okay? We’ll all be together, okay? Just us four. We’re safe, okay?” He cooed, rubbing Eddie’s back lovingly as he carried them back to bed.

Eddie sniffled, waiting until they were within the warm safety of the covers to respond. “The leper was— The leper was me—- It— They had— They had demonic little versions of _our babies_ , Rich— We— We have to tell Bill and the others,” He finally croaked out, still out of breath. Richie grabbed the emergency inhaler from their bedside drawer, holding it up for Eddie to breathe from until he was calm. Eddie inhaled deeply a few times before he relaxed, finally able to speak without choking on his words.

“I know we have to tell Bill and the others, baby, but right now, we need to calm down and focus on their, and our, mental state. Okay? They’re scared… _We’re_ scared. We can deal with the rest in the morning,” He murmured, Eddie nodding weakly and resting his head on Richie’s shoulder. Richie was still holding him in his lap, and the twins were snuggled against their mother, hiccuping and squeaking helplessly every few moments.

“Okay,” Eddie finally spoke, gingerly giving Michelle to her father and cradling Luci close, as seeing she looked about ready to start screaming her little lungs out. “Luci, baby, Buba’s right here… No one can hurt you,” He whispered, holding her against his heart. Richie did the same for their youngest, gently rubbing her back as she squirmed into a comfortable spot.

Something about the dream had left a weird taste in his mouth. Their demonic selves, the Eddie especially, seemed so violently _possessive_ of their own offspring. The fact that Pennywise was pregnant with it’s _own_ horrible offspring meant something, and that information wasn’t supposed to have been revealed, if the terrified look the doll had given just as the dream ended was anything to go by.

“Eds,” He spoke softly, “I think… I think they’re as scared as we are,” He finally said, Eddie looking up at him with watery eyes.

“Why?” Eddie responded.

“The one based off of you… It said it _made_ them… It was pregnant and gave birth to… Those things. If it was willing to go up against the thing that created it… I think it loves its offspring like we love the girls… I don’t think they’re fighting against us.”

Eddie just looked at the infants in their arms, eyes cloudy with emotion. “If they’re not against us,” He whispered, “Then why did they contact us?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to everyone who commented on the last chapter, thank you so much, you guys are the whole reason this chapter exists!!!


	5. Pray for the Wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie’s slip-up leaves him and Richie on edge within the rest of the Losers. Richie tries his best to stay calm about the whole ordeal, but Eddie is a foot away from mauling the whole group and leaving them for the rats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hah im back at it again with more content. there WILL be another chapter involving the other losers and POSSIBLY some of the real losers too!! you’ll just have to wait and see!!!

“You need to sleep.”

“Fuck off.”

“You’ve been awake for a fucking _week,_ dipshit. You can’t even sit up right,” Richie was trying to deal with his demented boyfriend, who, in the past week, had alienated himself from the rest of the Losers. Mike and Bill had made it perfectly clear after being mauled by the tiny demon that if they wanted to play parent instead of acting upon their duties, they would be treated as such.

Eddie had taken that as a direct threat to his babies, and had responded accordingly. That first night, he had quite literally been huddled around his little ones like a feral animal— Snarling and hissing at anything and everything that wasn’t them. Not even Richie had been allowed inside the room at first; only once he quite literally shattered his arm into pieces while sucker-punching Bill for getting too close to the door did Eddie let him in. After that, Richie had to watch as Eddie grew more and more manic.

The demon had been whittled away, of his own demise, to nothing more than skin and bone, every scrap of extra weight he’d gained during his pregnancy draining down to nothing as he fed his little ones without fail despite _no_ new energy being siphoned to either of them.

Thus, Eddie’s lack of sleep was going to kill him, and with no new food, he might not be getting back up.

“They’re gonna take ‘em if I sleep,” Eddie hissed back, his eyes wild and pupils blown so wide that the milky white sclera of his eye was now an inky black.

“I’m not gonna let them do that, dumbfuck,” Richie sighed, sitting down on the floor in front of the mattress where Eddie sat heavily. The twins, nearly two months old now and barely any bigger than when they were born, were both fast asleep. Luci was in Eddie’s lap, cushioned by her blanket and innocently burrowed against her mother. Michelle was in Eddie’s arms, the younger of the pair having become incredibly attached to Eddie after Bill broke her neck. Both twins had grown attached to Richie as well, and had become terrified of the other Losers— The sight of any of them scared the poor little things shitless, and they would scream and wail in desperate fear until Eddie or Richie would cradle them and hide them away from the others.

Eddie spoiled them far too much— He hushed their cries and would scream at whatever Loser had made his babies cry without fail. Much like a wild animal, he had become fiercely protective of the little things, to the point that now he viewed the other facets of his own maker as threats.

The only one he trusted now was Richie— his Richie, who had managed to turn the corner and become thoroughly wrapped up in the whole mess and somehow come out of it _more_ attracted to the psychotic little fucker that was his boyfriend. But now— Now it seemed like Eddie had regressed. “‘ _Food is food_ ,’” Eddie snarled, quoting what Richie had stated while he had been in labor, “You said it to Trashmouth. Food is food and you’ve said since day one that _our_ babies fell under that category!” He screeched, Richie groaning low in his throat in annoyance and dragging a hand over his face with a loud squeal of ceramic.

“They aren’t food.” He said bluntly, Eddie pausing before he gave a desperate giggle.

“How do I know that?! You’re hungry too— We’ve been starved all fucking week! I sleep, you could eat both of them! You or Bill or Ben or Bev or Mike or Stan—!” Eddie had grown hysterical, tears budded up in his eyes that had Richie frowning. “You all wanna fucking eat _my_ babies! You wanna take them from me!” He sobbed out, his accusing demeanor crumbling as his exhaustion got the best of him.

“I’ll prove it.” Richie said calmly, watching with that still-unfamiliar ache ringing in the hollow cavity of his chest as Eddie began to cry. The demon was falling off the deep end from his own self-induced fear— Eddie was more scared of losing his babies to what was basically just a reproduced form of himself in a different body than he was of starving to death.

Richie felt sickened just watching.

“How?” Eddie slurred, his eyes glassy but dangerously focused. His chest was heaving and he looked about ready to full-out _maul_ anything in his path. He was unhinged, yet as his body quivered from exhaustion and hunger, he looked about ready to collapse in on himself.

“Give me half an hour.” Richie spoke, standing up and crossing the room to where a closet door led to the crumbling roof thanks to a gaping hole in the floor. “If they wanna fucking starve us, I’ll get us food. And you’re gonna eat and feed the girls and then you’re gonna fucking sleep and I’ll watch you the whole fucking time. And no one is going to touch any of you but me— got it?” He snapped, Eddie just staring at him silently and shifting Michelle carefully from where she was weakly trying to squirm and snuffle in her sleep.

Richie didn’t let the smaller demon respond before he was leaving the room and slipping down to the snow-laden roof below.

…

It took over an hour for Richie to come back. Eddie had been hazily watching the twins— Luci had awoken and fussed for food, and he’d been forced to watch as she fed until the little bud of his breast bled from lack of anything to give. He was fading fast, and knew it well— This was usually the part when Richie came back with some miracle source of food to keep him alive.

Succumbing to hunger was the one thing none of them could survive. If It simply couldn’t manage to spread its energy that thin, well, then, might as well cut the dying piece off and save the energy for the ones still thriving. They had known that from the moment their existence had started— Hell, he knew that deep down, as soon as It’s child was born, none of then would exist. Not even his babies.

He also knew that they would still be alive within their human counterparts, yet as soon as the thought of his babies dying to become a part of their creator hit him, he gagged aloud. He had been made of nothing— A piece of energy molded into a demonic container for energy and nutrients to be collected.

That wasn’t what his babies were. They had been grown inside of _him_ ; they didn’t receive any sort of energy from food beyond what came from him. They survived only because of his decision to grow them— Had he not done that, they would have been just as he was— a vessel to hold food. He doubted they would even die when he did— No, they would be left to starve slowly without his energy keeping them fed and alive.

If he died, they died— And he would never let anything kill them.

So he let himself bleed, uncaring that it burned and that he was growing weaker and weaker— His children would get every scrap of energy he could give before he would use any for himself. In bearing them, he now had truly become the most like his creator; he survived only to spur on his offspring— He would gladly do what it took to keep them alive.

So when Richie finally came back, the fresh corpse of some street-bum slung across his back and untouched, still ripe with sweet blood and fat— Eddie let his head drowsily raise from where it had been hung loosely. Richie dropped the thing heavily in front of Eddie, the porcelain of his shoulders and arms visibly shadowed with barely-held-together cracks.

Killing was hard to do when alone and only a tenth of a being.

“Give me them and eat,” He ordered, Eddie slowly moving in acknowledgement. Richie sat on the mattress, barely getting both twins in his lap before Eddie was crumpled against his chest, breathing shallowly and shaking like a leaf. He was clearly on the verge of death, and Richie shoved him off to the direction of the corpse at their feet, grabbing Eddie’s head with one hand and pressing it against the blood starting to bloat against the corpses skin.

Similar to that of a vampire, all it took was a simple puncture of the skin for Eddie to go into a starved frenzy. The first taste of blood—sweet and rich and heavy with relief on his tongue— was all it took for him to tear into the thing like a dog. The ratty scraps of clothes were torn off and thrown at Richie to be used as blankets for the twins and he let himself gorge on the meal. By the time he was finished, just over half of the corpse left for Richie, he was caked in gore, shaking slightly from the high of relief and lack of hunger wrenching him to nothing. He took back at the twins, pressing them both against his chest once he forced his shirt up and whining as they latched on to the leaking little buds of his chest.

They were just as hungry as he had been for proper food, and now that he finally could provide it, he did so as soon as he could.

Richie just watched, moving over to the smaller demon and scraping off the drying gore with his cool fingers, sucking them dry and revealing in the warm relief that settled in his gut as he was able to eat as well. He watched as Eddie fed the twins, easily yanking off one of the brittle bones of the hobo’s visible rib cage and pulverizing it with ease. He was one of the only ones who could manage to eat the bone, but as seeing he wasn’t the one constantly feeding two _other_ demons, he could manage to only gnaw on them instead of the more juicy flesh instead.

Eddie just stared quietly at the little ones in his arms, cooing softly at them while they fed. He finally looked up at Richie, giving him an odd look— he wouldn’t look the older demon in the eye and his cheeks were darkened. “Thanks,” He mumbled, focusing back on the twins and watching as Luci unlatched and began to fuss weakly to be burped. Richie took her with ease, patting her back and popping the last of the bone in his mouth as if it was a common snack.

“You’re still taking a nap,” Richie said bluntly, patting at Luci’s back and sighing when the infant burrowed close to him and began to whine. She seemed cranky, and he sighed again, nosing at her head and mumbling quietly that she was fine.

Eddie gave him a look, which Richie matched with ease. Richie wasn't going to let it down without a fight, and Eddie knew it. He was still exhausted, and when Michelle unlatched, he moved to burp her, the humming little chitter he always gave slipping past him without a second thought. The infant ended up drowsily trying to squirm and clutch to him, hiccuping before she found her little thumb and began to suckle on it. “Fine,” Eddie grumbled, much less unhinged now that he had eaten and his babies were properly fed. “But you have to keep them next to me,” He hissed, still clearly unwilling to have them away from him.

“That’s fine,” Richie grunted. Eddie slowly laid down, reluctantly giving Richie little Michelle and giving a physically pained noise when she gave a broken whimper of protest at the lack of her mother’s hold. He sat back up, his eyes dark with distress.

“No,” The smaller demon had changed his mind— They clearly still needed him, and he couldn’t just _leave_ them to sleep if they were crying for him! “They _need_ me—!” He cried, lunging for Richie and scooping them both back up into his arms. As soon as they were within his arms, he hugged them close, whimpering softly and pressing them against his chest.

“Oi—” Richie sighed, watching as the demon dissolved back into his manic, fear-filled haze that _he_ had to be the one taking care of the infants at every waking moment. “ _Relax_ , you little fuck. If you’re that fucking freaked out, come here.” He ordered, Eddie giving a breathy sob of anger and glowering at him.

“You’re gonna take them—!” The brunet hissed, eyes ablaze.

“You’re gonna keep holding them— Just in my lap, you dumbfuck,” Richie cut him off, Eddie pausing and hesitantly letting himself loosen his hold on his little ones the _tiniest_ bit. “Get it now? C’mere and shut up,” Richie huffed, Eddie just staring warily at him.

“They _need_ me, you stupid fucker,” Eddie snarled low in his throat.

“Well then it’s a good thing you’re not _going_ anywhere. You’re still gonna be holding them, dumbass. You’re literally _just_ sleeping while you hold them. Quit fucking fussing and hurry up. Sooner you sleep, sooner you can go back to being a manic, protective fucking pixie.” Richie was annoyed, even as Eddie hesitantly slipped onto his lap.

He seemed unnaturally small, squirming until he was comfortable and letting himself relax when Richie pushed himself against the back wall so he was stable. Both of the little bundles in Eddie’s arms were getting cozy, Michelle already fast asleep now that she was back in her mother’s hold and Luci fading fast. Eddie let his head slump against Richie’s shoulder, going stiff as a board when Richie loosely draped both arms around his waist. “What the fuck are you doing—?!” He snapped, eyes going wide and hold on the sleeping twins tightening.

“Will you _calm down_? I’m keeping you steady, idiot. Shut up and relax,” Richie warned, Eddie just slowly letting the tension bleed out of him and hesitantly relaxing. Within minutes, his mind was fuzzy and he could barely keep his eyes open. Distantly, he could feel two cool thumbs massaging into the sharp angles of his hips, and whined tiredly, slowly beginning to lower both Luci and Michelle into his lap and using his now-limp arms to keep them safely within his hold.

He was fast asleep within minutes, drooling oily black all over Richie’s shoulder and trying to subconsciously burrow against the doll.

Richie just sat and watched calmly, hours ticking by within minutes simply thanks to his ability to completely tune out if he so felt like it. Not once did either baby in Eddie’s lap make a peep, either— They were both asleep for _hours_ , hugging onto each other while they slept and cooing quietly every so often. It was actually a bit cute, seeing the trio sleeping and hugged close to him for support.

At one point, he’d even pressed a kiss against Eddie’s head, mentally insisting to himself that he only did it because he had seen a bit of dried gore on the demon’s forehead and refused to let it go to waste. It was bullshit; his soft spot for the tiny brat had grown into some full-on ache in his chest whenever the fucker would so much as _look_ at him a certain way.

He was utterly and completely _fucked_ for the greasy little ball of rage that was his boyfriend, and as he felt Eddie stir within his hold, almost seven hours after he had first dozed off, on impulse Richie moved to hold the brunet’s head up, taking one look at the dark flush of sleep on his face and his bleary eyes to lean forward and kiss him. It wasn’t soft and sweet— no, he didn’t have time for shit like that.

No, this was his tongue pressing against Eddie’s own and forcing his mouth open, groaning softly as Eddie made a weak, mewling noise in his throat as his boyfriend’s infested blood was involuntary swallowed down in his sleep-hazed state and his throat was quickly feasted on.

“Hnn— ‘ih—‘ich— ‘chee—“ He choked out, trying to move closer and finally having to pull back just so he could try and force air into himself. It still wasn’t necessary, but out of habit he still heaved in the stuff, his voice scratchy and raw as a result of the insects gorging on the muscle of his throat.

Richie just watched, grabbing Eddie’s chin and making him look up. The smaller man’s jaw was loose and lax from his dazed state, and oily spit pooled on his tongue, making him whine softly as his mouth was held open. Finally, Richie let get of his chin with a small grunt, Eddie just staring drowsily up at him and letting his jaw snap shut.

“What?” Eddie mumbled, swaying a bit where he sat before he let himself fall back against the doll, head going right back into the crook of Richie’s neck and body going limp. He was still sleepy, and whined as he felt Richie’s fingers press into his mouth, his brows furrowing.

Richie just grunted again, pausing a moment before he finally pulled his fingers away. “Your voice is softer. It’s weird,” He explained, Eddie glowering up at him through sleepy eyes.

“‘M sleepy, asswipe! O’course I sound weird!” The smaller demon huffed, moving to curl himself against Richie and not even noticing as the doll stiffened underneath him.

“What are you doing?” Richie asked warily; Eddie was acting strangely and he honestly thought the lack of food had caused some sort of damage. Eddie usually awoke crabby, snarling and demanding space with gnashing teeth and bleary, angry eyes. But now, he was quite literally cuddled up against him, half-asleep and trying to shift so he was laying across Richie’s lap, twins still in his hold but a bit more open to the room. Thankfully, they were in a corner and the infants were still almost completely shielded from the door, but still— It was odd.

“Doin’ what you said before— ‘m bein’ soft. So shuddup and lemme be cuddly before I tear your stupid mouth off and jus’ keep you here,” Eddie grumbled; _there_ was the Eddie that Richie knew. He was just trying to hide his crankiness by hiding against Richie and staying half-asleep.

It was honestly rather cute.

“No need to get bitchy. All you had to fucking do was ask, idiot.” Richie scoffed, moving to _properly_ shift the smaller demon until he was settled in his lap. Eddie just flipped him off with an annoyed growl under his breath, which Richie ignored. “See? Now go back to sleep, cranky little asshat. You’re too tired to be anything other than a bitch,” He snorted.

“Fuckwad,” Eddie bit back, ignoring how comfortable he was and how _warm_ it was, despite there being no heat source anywhere near them. Sure, he could keep the twins warm, as best he could with blankets, but Richie was made of cold, hard porcelain that absorbed every bit of coldness from the winter air and _kept_ it. Nothing around him was even _remotely_ hot, yet he’d never felt more… Well, cozy.

“Spoiled cunt.” Richie was just as pissy as Eddie was.

“Cabinetry decor at best.”

“Psychotic prick.”

“Maggot-filled fucko.”

“Insect-loving whore.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck _you.”_

Somehow, despite the scathing insults, Eddie ended up fast asleep once more within Richie’s hold, drooling on his shoulder and tucked close to him. Richie had started rubbing his back and Eddie’s insults had started to die on his tongue, his voice growing thick and syrupy as the fact that he was still fully fed began to weigh on him once more— His body knew if it wanted to keep its babies alive, it would have to keep fat stored up, and to do that he needed to sleep.

Richie knew that, and had let Eddie fall back asleep, just staring at the little demon for a while and— Would admiring be the right word for it if all Richie saw was how many flaws the little shit had, despite fitting the definition of perfection within his mind?

Because that was all he saw.

Demented, unhinged perfection in a tiny, 5’3” bundle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if uou enjoyed, leave a comment down below or a kudos; we’re so close to 4k hits I can’t believe it!!! Thank you all so much for reading, and i’ll see ya next chapter!!!


	6. A Change of Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change of heart comes from two of the other Losers thanks to a very unexpected incident. 
> 
> But even with more on their side, Eddie trusts but one and doesn’t care what the circumstances reveal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY BIRTHDAY PRESENT IS PRESENTING THE MUCH ANTICIPATED SIXTH CHAPTER TO YOU ALL!!!

Awakening to violent crashing and infuriated yelling was never something Richie enjoyed. Eddie had still been asleep against him for _hours_ , but had awoken when the twins had started to stir for food. He’d fed them, laid down properly with his little ones and demanded Richie hold them. Richie had watched them and let himself faze out of focus just observing his sleeping— Family? Could he call them that without internally cringing? Either way, he’d ended up falling asleep at some point.

Which is when he felt something that shouldn’t have been as familiar as it was.

There was only one other person within the Neibolt group who could even do so— But they wouldn’t have been stupid enough to do it on purpose. It had to have been bad luck— horrible timing that got them into this situation, which would explain the furious yelling coming from downstairs.

Not that it mattered; he would stay in his lane with Eddie and the twins until trouble came knocking at their door.

…

Eddie had been created as a mirror of the thirteen year old _human_ Eddie. The real Eddie, by that age, had already long-since known he was a boy, and, well— Pennywise was none the wiser of it. Thus, the demonic Eddie had been created to match what Eddie feared; a barely-budded chest and folds between his legs that he didn’t want. But at the time, the young Eddie hadn’t yet been informed of his internal reproductive organs; his mother wanted him to wait until marriage to have sex, and not knowing was less of a strain on him. Thus, the Neibolt Eddie hadn’t been created with a womb to start out with.

But Beverly had.

Unbeknownst to herself and Ben, their human counterparts had been trying since the announcement of Eddie’s pregnant for a little one of their own. Had Bev known that fact, she would have refused to let Ben near her with a ten-foot pole; she wasn't going to carry some brat for nine months like Eddie had.

Unlike him, _she_ wasn’t batshit insane and always about a foot too far into the deep end to classify as anything except psychotic.

But it mattered not; a single instance of bad timing— Ben had been below her, a hand tangled in her hair and holding her firmly against his chest, when she had felt it. Just as heat bloomed deep within her and a low groan rung in her ear, a sharp tug behind her navel revealed a horrifying revelation; her human self was carrying.

Going dead stiff, she looked behind herself to Ben, who clearly had felt the exact same thing and was now regretting every moment leading up to the last ten seconds. She stared at Ben, watching for him to flinch at the feeling of energy being ripped away from him to sustain the new life, but it never came, confirming the worst.

Beverly Hanscom was pregnant, and now, she was too.

The redhead just stayed silent, calmly tugging her clothes back on and letting Ben move to hold her. It was only going to be a matter of minutes before Bill came up from the basement to roar and scream at them for pulling the same shitty stunt that Eddie had; even if it hadn’t been on purpose this time. Ben had prodded lightly at her to speak, but she shook her head; there was nothing to say. It had been sheer bad luck and awful timing; neither of them could have prevented it because they hadn’t expected it to be an issue.

They felt it _after_ the deed had been done.

From below, Bev could hear _someone_ storming up the stairs, and untangled herself from Ben, instead sitting up and crossing her legs, letting her chin rest boredly on her hand. She just stared at the door, waiting with half-lidded eyes as the footsteps grew closer and then were stopped as the door slammed open to reveal a red-faced Bill.

“W-wuh-what the f-fuh-fuck, Beverly?!” Bill yelled, Bev just shrugging at him.

“We didn’t know they were trying for a brat. I was horny, Ben was horny, so we fucked. We only felt the _new_ presence _as he was coming in me_ ,” Bev said bluntly, Bill just snarling in annoyance.

“F-fuh-fucking _perfect_! T-this is j-juh-just _perfect_! F-fuh-first Eddie, now y-you—!”

“Oh don’t even _try_ and compare me to Eddie, Bill. That little fucko _knew_ what he was doing; he _grew_ a womb _specifically_ to carry his brats! _I_ had one from the start!” Bev cut him off, standing up angrily when Bill just scoffed.

“Y-yeah, _sure_. It j-juh-just seems a l-little c-con-convenient t-that it h-huh-happened _right_ as we w-wuh-were fighting w-with Eddie and R-Ruh-Richie,” Bill spat coldly, Bev snarling in annoyance. She shoved him back, flipping him the bird when he hit the wall.

Bill stared darkly at her; he was the leader, and he didn’t care _who_ challenged that— If they wanted to fight, he would fight. Bev wasn’t going to back down, either; being compared to Eddie when that little brat had done it _just_ to get even more sex than he already got and ended up severely attached to the things he had created. _She_ had it forced upon her, and if Bill was going to accuse her of bullshit, she was going to call him out.

And she did.

“You wanna fucking call me a _whore_ like Eddie, Billy Boy?! _Fine_! I’ll respond _accordingly!_ ” She yelled as Bill forced himself back up to stand from his dent in the wall. He barely managed to stay steady as she lunged at him, crashing completely through the wall and ending up on top of him, spewing curses about angrily. “I didn’t want to carry some fucking _brat_ for nine months! You know how fucking _hungry_ I’m gonna be when it comes out now?! _I saw what happened to Eddie! I know damn fucking well that he nearly died trying to get his brats out! I’m not dying for some shitty meat sack!”_ She screeched, clawing and punching at every inch of skin she could reach. Sure, Bill had fought back and had managed to pin her down and get a few hits in as well with furious yells of his own before she had rolled back over and crashed them into some old furniture, but Bev was winning.

She was _pissed_.

Distantly, she felt two strong arms snake their way under her armpits, and hissed, knowing right away it was Mike. Mike lifted her with ease, dropping her just far enough away from Bill that she couldn’t immediately dive back at him. Bill was then grabbed as well, held forcefully by the stronger demon as Ben held Bev back.

“Both of you _calm the hell down_ ,” Mike growled— He was getting real tired of dealing with this when he had research to be done. “Bill, you need to _fuck off_ with the brat thing. Bev didn’t do this on purpose, unlike Eddie— Bev, you better make that thing disappear and let it show up normally. We don’t need _four_ of us playing parent when our _goal_ is to gain energy. Get fucking rid of it and let it show up normally or have fun bunking with Eddie and Richie,” He snapped.

Bev just glowered— Being given an ultimatum was never the way to get her to do something, and she wretched herself free of Ben’s grip. “Ben,” She said coldly, “Let’s go talk somewhere where _assholes_ who forgot the whole _reason_ we need energy is for _It’s child_ don’t lurk around.”

Ben just followed, his loyalty falling with her before all else.

Mike dropped Bill without a care, going right back downstairs to his research— This wasn’t worth his fucking time.

…

“Are you two awake?!” God, whoever the fuck thought trying to barge into their room was the best way to restart the conversation about what had happened during the dream was fucking _stupid_. Not only were they encroaching on his space, but they were a threat to his sleeping babies, one of whom was drowsily feeding from him while he rubbed her back. Sighing, Eddie ignored the insistent pounding on the door. That was, until Luci, who had been fast asleep, stirred, the loud noise awakening the little doll and making her wail as she was ripped from her sleep. She began to flail and kick her legs, her face scrunching and ungodly screeches slipping out of her tiny lungs.

Oh, whoever was on the other side of the door had done it now. Scaring his babies was one thing— _Awakening_ them and scaring them was bounds for a full course meal of being eaten. Snarling, Eddie scooped the infant up, cradling his firstborn close as she wailed into his shoulder and letting out his ever-so-familiar, chittering mumble of a coo that always soothed his little ones. Richie stirred from beside him, and Eddie felt more anger burn hot in his gut. The fucker had fallen asleep! Their babies had been _vulnerable_ to _everyone_! Anyone could have taken them, or worse!

“Fuck, Bev— He’s gonna fucking kill you. Move back,” Great, now _Benny-Boy_ was here too.

“What the _fuck_ could _possibly_ be so _important_ that you had to wake up _my babies?!”_ Eddie screeched— He was in no mood to play games. His children had nearly lost him yesterday, even if they didn’t know it. Bev and Ben coming in to fuck around with his system and stress his kids out from their fear of them was _not_ something he was gonna let happen.

“We need to talk!” Ben yelled, trying to force the door open with fail; Richie had wedged a chair underneath it that barely budged under the vibrations of Ben’s first hammering against the door.

“We _are_ talking!” Eddie laughed darkly, looking around and finding an old glass bottle. He picked it up, chucking it at the door with far more force than he needed and hissing violently in warning. “Stay the fuck away from them! _Go the fuck away and stay away from my babies, you fucking assholes!”_ He howled, panting harshly from fury as Richie forced him to cool down with a simple ceramic hand on his shoulder.

“Enough,” Richie said, Eddie giving him a venomous glare but quieting when the doll’s grip moved from his shoulder to the small of his neck. Two icy fingers pressed against the little divot at his neck, and he went lax, still frowning deeply at his boyfriend but no longer fuming and screaming with spittle flying from his foaming mouth as he completely lost it. “Ben,” Richie spoke cooly, “What do you want?”

Eddie paused, his brows creasing. “Wait a minute—,” He said, “Who else is out there?!” He asked accusingly, realizing there were _three_ presences at the door and growing more acutely on edge.

“That would be what we need to talk about,” Ben sighed, letting his head thump on the door. Richie, having pieced a few things together from his knowledge of all the yelling beforehand, stood, ignoring the shocked cry of protest from Eddie as he crossed the room and opened the door.

“What the _fuck,_ you shithead?!” Eddie shrieked, pushing himself back into the corner and curling around the barely-calmed twins defensively. Bev, watching him, felt something oddly… Empathetic about how Eddie was acting— He was still covered in dried gore from the corpse, had drool across his chin and was heaving out ragged breaths, seeming as if he was almost… Having a panic attack.

“What’s with him?” She asked, Richie turning to look at Eddie and raising an eyebrow. Eddie wasn’t even snarling and hissing like before— no, he was just sitting there, curled up in the corner with wide, unfocused eyes, choppily inhaling every so often and hiding the infants in his arms completely with his body. He seemed very small and quite a lot like a cornered cat, ready to pounce on its prey but waiting for the right moment.

“Oi,” Richie called, Eddie not even making the tiniest movement of acknowledgement at being named and instead continuing to stare dead at him, “What the fuck is your problem. Bev is _pregnant,_ you idiot. She’s not gonna hurt the girls. Calm the fuck down,” He ordered.

Still not even a twitch from Eddie; that was, until Ben made only the _slightest_ shift in his position and ended up within Eddie’s line of sight. In a blur, the twins had been placed on the mattress while the little demon flung himself at Ben with a screeching noise that grated on Richie and Bev’s ears. Ben barely managed to stay upright, choking out at how Eddie had quite literally shoved his hand into his ribcage and was now holding his heart. Richie, having had quite enough of the scene, grabbed Eddie roughly by his shoulders, forcing him off 

Richie watched carefully as Bev nodded and stood up, giving Eddie his space. Eddie relaxed a bit at that, scrambling back onto his mattress and pushing himself against the corner of the wall, still very much on edge and staring at Bev and Ben warily. “I think you guys should go,” Richie said calmly, “We can talk more when he’s not… Losing it. There’s an empty room next door if Big Bill is being a dick,” He grunted, Ben nodding.

“Got it. Just knock when he’s calmed down,” The taller demon spoke, motioning to Eddie before he slung an arm over Bev’s waist and lead them out of the room. Richie just nodded, letting them leave before he crossed the room to close the door. Eddie watched, his breathing shallow and shoulders quivering. He was still very visibly off, and when Richie came closer, he saw that the demon was still crying.

The doll just quietly sat in front of the mattress, waiting for Eddie to give him permission to come closer— Lord knows how finely he would be crushed back into powder if he tried to make a move before Eddie was ready. Yet Eddie seemed willing to let him onto the grimy material, if the way he slowly edged away from the corner was any sort of sign.

“Are you done?” Richie asked, Eddie nodding and letting himself ease from how he was curled in a ball around his little ones. “Can I come up or are you gonna pulverize me back into stoneware?”

“‘M not gonna break you,” Eddie mumbled, watching as Richie climbed onto the mattress and immediately pressing against him. Richie nearly fell backwards from the sudden force of the smaller man, awkwardly wrapping an arm over his shoulders.

“You wanna explain what the fuck just happened?” Richie asked, Eddie shaking his head and instead pressing it into the socket of the doll’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Eddie said quietly, slipping into Richie’s lap and moving to all but hug the older demon.

“You don’t know?”

“It felt like I was starving— But— Not. I don’t— Something is happening to me because of them,” Eddie finally admitted after silence stretched between them for a good ten or so minutes. “Bev being pregnant made something happen… I don’t think It should have let us completely follow the Losers Club.”

“And why is that?” Richie asked.

“Because,” Eddie sighed deeply, “We’re becoming too human to do our duties… We’re too much like It now to be useful.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys enjoyed!!! Comments and kudos would make a fantastic birthday presents; I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!!!!


	7. Revelation of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their shared nightmare, the human Eddie and Richie spend a day recovering when Bev calls with some good news. Eddie and Richie decide it’s best to let their friends be happy for the night instead of crashing reality back down on them during such a joyous occasion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey demons, it’s me, ya boi. i have a new chapter and with it some good news; i was able to cut my hair!!! it’s something i’ve wanted for a really long time! that took most of the day yesterday so that’s why this update came out now instead of last night ;w;

It had been a little over a week since the family nightmare, and the Tozier household had been run ragged. Every night, either Richie or Eddie was left to stay up with the twins, who had grown incredibly collicky after the nightmare and would awaken every hour. Both Eddie and Richie were just as fearful to sleep— It happened in shifts and quite a few times, one would find the other fast asleep in the oddest places.

Richie, that particular morning, found Eddie asleep in front of their coffee machine, leaning on the wall in his robe with a clearly-cold cup of coffee still under the machine. He sighed, going over to his husband and carefully scooping him him up. “C’mon bub, let’s get you to bed,” He murmured, Eddie stirring and whimpering weakly as he was moved.

“Hnn— R-Rich…?” Eddie slurred tiredly, whimpering and trying to clutch tighter to his husband as Richie carried him back to their bedroom.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, it’s just me,” Richie soothed, gently laying the brunet down on their downy sheets and chuckling dryly when Eddie refused to let go. “C’mon hun, you gotta get some sleep.” He murmured, Eddie just whining weakly in protest.

“No…” Eddie fussed, tugging Richie close to him and trying to keep him close. Richie sighed, crawling into bed with the smaller male and hugging him close. He wasn’t going to try and fight it when Eddie had gotten the least amount of sleep in their entire family. The brunet needed sleep— If that was only going to happen by Richie being close to him, then Richie would stay right there and hold him.

“Alright, alright,” The dark-haired man sighed, “I’m not gonna leave. But you gotta get some sleep, baby. No offense, but you look like shit, babe. You’ve gotten _no_ sleep these past few days. You’re gonna hurt yourself,” He said, Eddie just nodding reluctantly and nestling his head against Richie’s shoulder.

“I know,” Eddie whispered, tucking his arms around his husband’s waist and sighing as Richie held him just as close, “I just… E-Every time I fall asleep I think I’m gonna end up back there… It hasn’t been this bad since— Since we were really there.” He admitted.

Richie nodded; it had been ten years that past August, and Eddie had been heavily pregnant by that point and entering the third trimester. Every nightmare scare led to a lot of pain on Eddie’s end simply from the stress, and how the twins had responded to it.

“I know, baby, but you gotta get _some_ sleep… Bev said she wanted to take us out with Ben so we could have a pre-birthday dinner for me, remember?” Richie reminded, Eddie nodding quietly and snuggling closer. Richie’s birthday was on the 23rd of February, and he had been beyond excited to celebrate it with his little family— Now he just wished for nothing more than to have them all happy and healthy enough to _function_ for his twenty-fourth birthday.

“I know,” Eddie repeated, looking up at Richie with bleary eyes, “I really want you to have a good birthday… You’ve been so excited to have it with the girls… They’re gonna be two months old… A-and I’m _trying,_ Rich, I really am… I-It’s just— With the postpartum a-and now this, I feel like this is the best I can do b-but I know it’s not enough— T-The girls _need_ me and you _deserve_ to have time with me too because it’s _your_ birthday—”

Richie stopped him with a gentle shush, feeling how the smaller man was trembling in his hold and cupping his cheek. “Breathe, Eds, _breathe._ I’m not upset at all… None of us wanted that nightmare, and you _know_ that everything that happened with the pregnancy— You went through _so much_ for me, Eddie— For the girls, too. If you’re going through a rough patch with dysphoria or postpartum or both, you _know_ I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Okay? Don’t… Don’t worry about me when my number one priority is always you and the twins,” He gave Eddie that dorky, goofy smile that never failed to make Eddie’s heart just melt to mush.

“You’re such a dork,” Eddie just whispered in response, _knowing_ that Richie was completely serious. Richie just grinned brighter, pressing a kiss against his husband’s forehead and then his nose.

“I know,” Richie teased, “But you love me, so I’m gonna keep doing it. Worked this far, right?” He laughed, Eddie just rolling his eyes and nodding.

“Yeah yeah,” He hummed, a drowsy yawn slipping past him as he spoke, “I love you too. Now can I go to sleep please?” He asked, Richie humming and nodding.

“Of course, baby. I’ll be right here.” Richie reassured, watching as Eddie went lax in relief and let himself fall back into the comfort of some much needed sleep.

He just hoped it was deep enough that there were no dreams to be had.

…

“Don’t touch them when you come in. Hell,” Richie laughed dryly, “Don’t get near them. Stay next to the mattress and don’t even look over at them. You get his attention back on them and we’re all back to step fucking one. Got it?”

Beverly nodded, crossing her arms and staring at the closed door. She and Ben had had a discussion with Richie the night before once Eddie had fallen asleep— Something he had done much more often after the birth of the twins that had ended up as a habit. After a bit of back and forth, Richie had explained that he had just barely coaxed the small demon into letting the twins sleep in their summoned crib. Eddie had given in, and that he had awoken and fed them, then agreed to speak with Ben and Bev if they _promised_ not to go near the twins while they slept. Richie had agreed, and Eddie insisted they wait outside until he was ready and came to collect them.

Now they were just waiting.

The door clicked in front of them, revealing a very… Perturbed Eddie. He was twitching anxiously as the group entered, crawling back onto his mattress and giving Richie a pointed look as the doll closed the door behind them. “What?” Richie asked, Eddie just wrapping his arms around himself uncomfortably and looking away. The larger demon sighed, crossing the room and sitting on the mattress, giving a small grunt when Eddie immediately slipped into his lap, facing Ben and Bev but tugging Richie’s cool arms around himself.

Seems not holding something meant he had to be held if they wanted him to be composed enough to have a discussion.

“Sit,” Eddie said bluntly, pointing to the floor in front of the mattress with a rough jerk of his chin. Bev rolled her eyes, but did as told, Ben following suit without a word and looking expectantly at the smaller demon.

“What is there to discuss?” Ben asked calmly, Eddie narrowing his eyes but staying at ease as Richie tightened his grip. Seems he was also serving as a sort of seat belt to keep the brunet from attacking the two in front of them— Eddie was being held still in Richie’s waist, for their safety it seemed.

“We need a plan,” Eddie started, “If Bill, Mike and Stan wanna be fucking dicks, we need to corner tham. _We_ have numbers— I’m still the strongest. If I had enough food I could fill them to do what we needed, or, fuck, I could go find It—!” Richie cut the man off there, clearing his throat roughly.

“What exactly are you thinking this plan’s _outcome_ is going to be?” He asked bluntly, Eddie going quiet.

“The same outcome It has, right?” Bev chimed, Eddie looking up at her and nodding.

“I want them alive,” The demon spoke, turning to look over at the sleeping little ones and wincing, “I don’t want our human selves killing them. Trashmouth said— He said to leave their kids out of it because they did nothing wrong— That they were innocent. The same goes for my fucking kids, doesn’t it? They’re innocent— They don’t deserve to fucking die when we get absorbed back and It wakes up to feed It’s child when _they’re_ just the same as what it’s trying to fucking feed,” He was very visibly bitter, his eyes downcast and hot with barely-tamed fury.

“You agree with Trashmouth then?” Bev asked, Eddie snorting mockingly at her.

“Yeah, Bevvy, I guess I fucking do. What’s it to you?” The brunet spat.

“If you agree with them, why don’t you try _talking_ with them again? Mike’s ritual wasn’t _that_ hard. Leave their kids out of it this time, just get Wheezy and Trashmouth. See what they know,” Bev explained, crossing her legs and resting her chin on her hand boredly.

“What could they _possibly_ know that we don’t?” Eddie snarled, eyes darkening at the thought of having to go to his _human_ self to get _help_.

“They could know how to contact the turtle,” Ben said suddenly, the other three demons in the room going stiff at the mention of the entity. The turtle was the one thing that could wipe them out in an instant if it gave crucial information to the right people, and the Losers Club were the exact people that said information grew dangerous with. Trying to contact it _just_ to protect their children, albeit not connected to It directly, could be a death sentence for all of them if they weren’t careful.

“Why would they want to help us?” Richie asked, Eddie turning to face him and giving him a hard look.

“If they love their babies,” He said sharply, “And they _know_ that they love their kids enough that it’s affecting _us_ , you _really_ think they’re just gonna leave us for dead? They’re the kind of fuckers who do what’s right— We’ve basically had a change of fucking heart; If they help us with our kids, in turn, we keep It away from them. Simple as that, right?”

Richie just started at the demon quietly, mentally trying to decipher all the ways that statement could go horribly wrong. His Eddie was a mess at the moment, and it honestly seemed like he was just talking absolute nonsense. And yet… Ben and Bev both seemed to agree; was he seriously gonna have to be the one to bring the reality of that statement crashing down? “Not to be the one to shit on your parade, but reality check here— They _tried_ to kill us. They forced It back into a coma and now we’re all starving because It’s still recovering. We’re ten years down the hole and nowhere _near_ strong enough to wake up in seventeen years. You really think that they’re gonna _help_ us?”

Eddie’s face went dark, and he climbed out of Richie’s hold, glowering furiously at him with his eyes eerily calm. “So we should just _not try_ then? And leave our babies to die when we get absorbed when It wakes back up?!” He accused, slamming his finger against Richie’s chest. “Because that is fucking _bullshit!”_ He was absolutely seething in anger at the thought, his breathing ragged and eyes growing wild.

Ben and Bev both exchanged a glance; he was losing it, and Bev cleared her throat. “Eddie,” She started calmly, “Calm down. It was a _suggestion;_ a stupid one at that. If we’re gonna approach the _real_ us, we need to make it clear we don’t want to hurt them— That we just want what they want. We need to approach ourselves one on one. No scaring them— at all.” She said, Eddie turning to face her, still panting and huffing from his outburst.

She had a point.

“Fine,” He said roughly, “But _I_ go first.”

“Fine.”

…

“So, Bevvy, what was the big news you’ve been hyping us up all night about, huh?” Richie teased, poking the redhead’s cheek and giving a loud bark of laughter when she swatted his hand away and gave him a playful shove towards Eddie.

“Be _patient,_ Richie. You’ll find out once everyone else gets here!” She laughed, Richie giving a mocking pout and leaning on Eddie instead.

“ _Eds_ ,” He whined, “Bevvy’s bein’ _mean_ , on _my_ birthday!” Eddie just rolled his eyes, giving Richie a very bleary-eyed Michelle, who was only just-barely awake after the car ride there. He softened visibly at the sight of his little girl, cradling her tiny head in the crook of his arm and pressing a loving kiss against her forehead.

“Distraction initiated, Captain Bev. Approximately ten minutes of peace and quiet has been deployed,” Eddie snickered, Bev just snorting in amusement at how quickly Richie just melted into a gooey pile at the sight of his daughter.

“Ben, you think that’s gonna be you in a few months?” The redhead hummed just as the final three Losers showed up, the whole room going dead quiet. Bill dropped the present he had been holding, as did Mike. Ben’s drink dropped back onto the table with a quiet _thunk_ and Eddie nearly dropped the baby bottle he’d grabbed from the diaper bag.

“ _You’re pregnant?!”_

“Oops,” Bev laughed sheepishly at the chorus of shocked cries from her friends, scratching the back of her head. “ _Surprise?”_ She squeaked, uncharacteristically shy if only because she had ruined her whole plan by mistake. She’d had a big, cheesy speech made and everything!

“Bevvy! You’re gonna let me be an _uncle_ as my birthday present?!” Richie finally cried, gently giving Eddie Michelle back before he crushed one of his best friends into a bear-hug.

Bev just giggled, happily hugging him back and rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I guess I am, huh? You’re already a dad, Rich, it’s not _that_ different,” She teased, Richie pulling away to give her a shocked look.

“ _Not that different?!_ Bev, my dear, uncles have to spoil their nieces rotten! I’m gonna be the _fun_ uncle who plays princess and monster trucks and anything your dear little redheaded bundle could ever want!”

“Rich, you cried for three hours when you found out we were having twins because you had no idea what to do with all the love you had for them both,” Eddie deadpanned, Richie going scarlet at that.

“Beside the point, love. Point is— Bevvy’s having a _baby!”_ Richie gave Bev a bright smile, and Bev just flushed, giving him a playful shove and ruffling up his mess of curls with a cheeky grin of her own.

“Yeah, yeah, Trashmouth. Put a sock in it and go help your husband with _your_ kids,” She hummed, Richie just grinning at her before he turned back to Eddie, who slipped little Michelle back into his arms before starting to bottle-feed Luci, who hadn’t seemed to happy at the sudden delay of incoming food.

“You hear that, Michy? You’re gonna have a little cousin! You and your sister are gonna have a _cousin_ to play with!” Richie cooed, the infant in his arms giving a soft burble of content and hugging against her father quietly.

As Eddie watched the other six members of the odd little mish-mash he called his family interact—Ben diving into a happy conversation with Mike about possible restoration of the Derry Public Library, Stan falling into a brief chatter with Bev about a few new parks that would be opening around the time she would be due that she could go birdwatching with him to, Bill and Richie trying to play peek-a-boo with a sleepy-but-happy Michelle and only managing to make her gurgle in content every few tries— he realized there was no possible way he could ruin such a wholesome night with the new information on Pennywise without completely destroying it.

Richie, who had passed Michelle off to her godfather, turned to see Eddie just staring at the others with Luci resting against his shoulder, freshly burped and sleepy, pausing for a moment and leaning on him. “Hey,” He said softly, “You doing okay, bub?” He pressed a loving little kiss on Eddie’s cheek, promptly a blush from his husband that had him relaxing a little.

“‘M fine, Rich. Just a little tired, that’s all. I—,” Eddie paused, moving to press himself a little closer against his husband so no one else would hear him, “I don’t think we should tell them tonight. Okay?” He whispered, Richie giving a nod.

“Of course baby,” He soothed, opening his arms and gently taking his eldest daughter into his arms and kissing the fuzzy crown of her head, “Now c’mere. Gimme a hug and come enjoy the night with us, huh?” All his cooing had the tension melting out of Eddie’s shoulders, and the younger man gave in. The brunet ended up hugging Richie close for a few moments, head pressed against Richie’s heart and just soaking in the firm, steady heartbeat under his ear.

“You good Eddie?” Mike asked, Eddie pulling up from Richie’s chest and smiling.

“Mm-hm, ‘m fine. Can’t a guy give his husband a hug in peace?” He teased, Richie just snorting in amusement and pressing a big, wet kiss on Eddie’s cheek.

“Nope. Sorry babe, hugging the birthday boy is gonna cost ya.”

“No, Richie—,”

“Cute, cute, cute!”

Eddie went bright red, giving the older man a flustered glare and crossing his arms as Richie pinched his freckled cheek before kissing it again. “You’re such a _dork_ , Richie,” He huffed, Richie just grinning in reply.

“Mm-hm. And you love me for it!”

“Oh here we go—,” Stan sighed, watching how Eddie went tense and flushed scarlet up to his ears.

“That’s _besides the point, Richie—!”_

The rest of the group just laughed, carefree and happy for just one night. They could stand to enjoy a dinner to themselves, full of jokes and smiles and passing around the twins. Enjoying all of Richie’s awful puns, all of the cheesy, horrible-quality pictures that Eddie took on his camera and the opening of presents, for once they were able to forget Pennywise and the house at 26 Neibolt Street.

It was just one night, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!! if you did, leave me a comment or a kudos or both if you’re feeling generous! they make my day!! and thank you so so much for all the kind birthday wishes last chapter!! <3<3<3


	8. True Desperation Comes in Wet Packages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Eddie meet once more, and the human Eddie is forced to realize that they truly are more similar than he’s comfortable with. The Neibolt Eddie becomes desperate to make himself known— At the cost of more than his pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally some more plot and interaction between the eddies!!!

“Eddie, babe, did you fall asleep brushing your teeth again?” Richie asked, knocking on the closed door to the bathroom. They had gotten home from their birthday dinner with the Losers and after Eddie had fed the twins for the night, he left Richie to get them to bed while he went to shower.

But it had been a good ten minutes since the shower had turned off and the sink was still running— If Eddie had fallen asleep, Richie needed to know so he could carry his poor, sleepy husband to bed.

“‘M awake!” Eddie called, sounding a little startled. The water in the sink turned off as the door opened, revealing a bleary-eyed Eddie. Oh yeah; he had _definitely_ fallen asleep.

“ _Eds,”_ Richie cooed, opening his arms and smiling when Eddie slipped into his hold with ease, “Baby, you gotta get some sleep. Okay? C’mon,” He hummed, only for Eddie to stubbornly grip tighter to him.

“Mm-mn,” The brunet shook his head, head firmly burrowed into the taller man’s chest, “‘m gonna fall asleep before you get in bed again. Brush your teeth holding me,” He said.

Richie felt his heart give an aching throb of adoration at the sleepy grumble of his husband’s words, pressing a kiss on the younger man’s head. “Alright, alright,” He gave in far too easily, “But you gotta promise me you won’t try and go fuss with something afterwards. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie huffed, hugging the curly-haired man close and inhaling deeply as Richie gave a deep chuckle— His heart thrummed in his chest, and he instinctively thumbed over the simple engraving of the wedding band on his ring finger; “ _Until death do us part,”_ it read, paying homage to the very real fear they both had of Pennywise someday returning and trying to kill them once again. The very thought of the clown had nausea creeping up Eddie’s throat, and he winced, swallowing it down thickly before he snuggled his head over Richie’s heart, sighing deeply. He couldn’t imagine life without Richie— It had taken him almost ten years of knowing the man to realize that he had loved him from the start, and now, after twenty years of loving him he didn’t think he was even the same person without the inky-haired trashmouth at his side. Trying to think of a world where Pennywise killed the love of his life made him feel physically sick, and he fought back a small gag of disgust at the mental image.

“Eds? Sweetie, you okay?” Richie asked from above him, Eddie jolting visibly at the sudden noise before he relaxed.

“Sorry,” He whispered, making a quiet noise of content as Richie pressed a kiss on the crown of his head, “Just… Have a lot on my mind.”

“Then drop it. Just relax for me, hun. I just want you to be happy and get some sleep; you being healthy is a great birthday present,” Richie replied, cupping Eddie’s cheek, “Think you can try and do that for me, bub?” Eddie nodded, and Richie grinned, pressing a wet kiss atop the smaller man’s head. “Then let’s get to bed and get some much-needed sleep.”

Eddie didn’t voice any protest, because for once, he didn’t have a single one at that statement.

…

It felt very wrong to be alone. After almost two months of having his twins either in his arms or directly by his side every waking moment, now, being alone was _jarring._

Catching sight of the empty bassinet where they had still been sleeping before he had been sent to make contact with his human self once more, the demon crumpled. He went over to it, staring at it silently as grimy tears dripped down his cheeks and burned onto the wood below him.

He hadn’t even heard the loud _thump_ as the human Eddie appeared. “N-no, no no no _no—!”_ Oh great, now his human counterpart was _panicking,_ too.

“Shut up,” The demon said quietly, voice hollow and raw as he stayed unmoving in his spot in front of the empty cradle.

“Why the fuck am I here again?!” Eddie roared, forcing himself to his feet from where he had seemingly fallen. The demonic presence in front of him was proving to be a major annoyance, and he was tired of dealing with it; if it wanted him or his family, it could face him in the _real_ world. Dreams were something he couldn’t control, and it infuriated the brunet to high hell.

“I’m not here to fucking fight you, dumbass,” The demon snarled back, just as annoyed with the situation as Eddie was.

“Then why am I here?” Eddie asked roughly, crossing the room and grabbing the demon by the shoulder, trying not to gag at how the demon immediately flashed from a mirror of himself to the leper before changing back.

“Why do you think I’m here without my brats, shitwad?”

Eddie went quiet, remembering what Richie had spoke to him of the demons loving their children just as much as they did. “You can't be fucking serious,” He laughed dryly, pulling his hand away in disgust, “You want _us_ to help _you?!_ After you tried to fucking _eat us_ when we were thirteen?!” Years of fear of having to fight Pennywise again had left only anger burning in his veins; they were now playing some fucked up game of Chicken trying to decipher if It was actually awakening once more or not, with the lives of not only them, but their _children_ on the line.

“You think I’m fucking _joking,_ Wheezy?” The demon asked coldly, eyes dark with some stormy emotion the human Eddie couldn’t place, “I would do _anything_ to fucking keep my babies alive, and _that_ is why you’re here.”

Eddie just stared at the grotesque mirror image of himself, face drawn into a deep scowl. “Why the fuck should I believe you? You tried to _eat_ me!” He yelled, shoving the demon back.

“I’m not _It,_ you fucking idiot!” The demon shrieked back. “ _It_ split itself up to make me and the rest of you losers so we could collect more energy for its brat! Then you went and got pregnant and I did too; now I fucking care about them and I refuse to let them fucking die! I _care_ about them you stupid fucking— _human!_ They made me more human and nearly every other loser in Neibolt has tried to fucking _eat_ them!”

As the rant ended, the smaller man’s chest heaving from exertion, the human Eddie stepped back, eyes wide. This couldn’t be real; it had to be some fucked up joke—

“It’s not a joke,” The demon whispered, Eddie stiffening harshly and instinctively clamping his hands over his ears, trying to keep his counterpart out of his head.

“Stay out of my fucking head,” Eddie croaked, eyes wringing shut. “We aren’t going to help you— You tried to _kill_ me. You broke my arm, you fucking sent me through a _floor_ and tried to eat me and my friends—!”

“I just want them alive,” The demon cut Eddie off, turning back to face the empty crib and hiccuping softly as he realized it had all been useless; his babies were going to die. He snarled, clutching the wood tightly until it splintered under his grasp. More oily tears began streaking down his face, and he sobbed through clenched teeth. “I’ve fucking starved myself every day to keep them alive— They can only feed from me. I can’t— I can’t fucking let them starve.”

Eddie turned, watching as the demon slowly slid to his knees, still clutching the bars of the crib, shoulders shaking and body curled. Something unnaturally close to empathy throbbed in his chest at the sight; the demon in front of him was quite literally on his knees, sobbing out a plea to keep his children alive. Denying it was no better than watching as someone died. The demonic versions of his own children were going to die and he was going to sit by and ignore it if he refused to help. “Fine,” He finally whispered, his hands slowly lowering from his ears and voice heavy with conflicting emotion, “I’ll help you. But you fucking listen here— We are still killing It if It comes back— If you die, I don’t know what to fucking tell you.”

“The Turtle,” The demon whispered, “You need to talk to the Turtle.”

“And how do I do that?”

The demon looked up at his human counterpart, acridic black smeared over his cheeks and snot running down his nose, a mocking, bitter smile painting onto his features. “You know just as much as I do, Wheezy.

The room shattered just as the words left the demon’s mouth, just as it had the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was really nervous about this chapter and making the characters stay within their personality so please let me know what you think!! i hope you all enjoyed!!! It’s short i know but next chapter is gonna be longer I swear!!


	9. The Turtle, The Demon and The Crib

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie awakens and has to tell Richie what he’s heard, but Richie has information of his own. Meanwhile, their demonic selves struggle to grasp just how much of themselves is changing as a result of the contant interactions with their human counterparts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i told uou guys i would be back with a longer chapter today, and i was telling the truth. here’s 4k words of chapter nine!!

Not having the twins was odd; Richie had grown used to their presence within the room with the mattress—and now, the crib. Slowly, they’d started to collect things within the room as well; Luci had grown to like some of her father’s dolls, and a few of them now resided within the corner near the crib for her to look at when she was awake. Eddie had collected a trunk of sorts wit!h different ‘clothes’ that he had fashioned or spawned for the infants. Next to it was the grimy blanket that lay folded neatly, courtesy of Richie. A few scattered infants toys were under the crib that Eddie had ravaged from the basement. It had been cleared of cobwebs from their heavy use of the room, and Richie, annoyed by the constant dust and debris every time he would move, had actually swept.

It had become home, in a way.

Now, all the little touches of personal items were gone, and only the bare mattress and crib remained in the dark room.

“Fuck!” Well, seemed the human Richie was here.

“Welcome back,” The doll said dully, sighing when Richie instinctively swung at him.

“Why the fuck am I back here?!” Richie yelled, eyes wide, “Where the fuck is Eddie and the girls?! What did you do with them?!”

“Relax,” The doll spoke calmly, grunting as he was completely knocked to the floor. “It’s just us here. Your brats are still safe in their bed, as is your Eddie.”

Richie hissed, pulling off of the doll in disgust and distancing himself warily. “Then why am I here? What do you want?” He spat bitterly, eyes ablaze with fury. “You gonna try and fucking eat me? Or lock me in that room of clowns again so It can come out and try to eat me?!”

“I’m not _It,_ dumbass,” The doll corrected, “When you losers beat It the first time, It split up and made us to get more energy. Eddie had the brats and now we’re becoming more human because of them; we want to keep them alive. _That_ is why you’re here.”

“You want _me_ to help _you,_ after _you_ tried to eat me and nearly killed Eddie?” Richie scoffed, laughing mockingly at the very idea before it was replaced with anger. “Why the _fuck_ would I do that?! What could we _possibly_ want to do that for?!”

“They don’t get any energy from It. The girls don’t,” The demonic Richie spoke, voice hollow, “Only Eddie can feed them. I meant what I said— Food is food. But Eddie fought until I was halfway pulverized to make sure they lived— You think we would go to you if it wasn't our last hope?”

Richie paused, eyes narrowed dangerously, “Why should I believe that?” He asked cautiously, the doll in front of him sighing deeply.

“ _This_ ,” He spoke, a small crackle ringing through the room before a peephole of sorts showed itself, directly in front of Richie like a mirror. Upon looking inside, it showed the demonic Eddie, crumpled to his knees in front of his human counterpart, openly sobbing. While Richie couldn’t make out what the demon was saying, it didn’t matter— That was the same thing that nearly killed him, now in front of his husband, openly weeping.

The portal closed just as the human Eddie began to speak, and Richie jolted, glaring at the doll. “What the fuck, dude?!” He protested, the emotionless porcelain in front of him just shrugging.

“I thought you weren’t going to help us?”

“Fuck off. If Eddie is crying, I will fucking stop whatever made it happen— Even if it isn’t my Eddie,” Richie said quietly, eyes dark with emotion, “What the fuck do I have to do?”

The doll just hummed calmly, a small smirk gracing his cold features, “I do believe you should know the story of what created me in the first place, Trashmouth.”

…

Waking up in his own bed was quickly becoming just as relieving as it had been when he was thirteen. Of course, back then, Eddie was alone, left to shake and sob as the thought of going back to fight It once more, of being directly in its jaws and being unable to do _anything,_ crashed over him. He would often crawl out of his bedroom window and go to Richie’s house just around the block; Richie had always left his window unlocked for him.

Now, all he had to do was turn his body and there was his husband, always there with open arms and a soothing murmur that it was okay, just as he had when they were teenagers. “Rich,” Eddie croaked, sitting up and trying to keep his breathing calm so he wouldn’t end up having a panic attack and needing the inhaler again.

Richie stirred beside him, his eyes slowly blinking open before he saw how Eddie was trembling. “C’mere,” He rumbled, his arms opening on instinct and face softening as Eddie immediately slipped into his hold.

“It happened again,” Eddie spoke softly, his breathing evening back out as the safety of his husband’s arms soothed him. Distantly, he felt Richie’s left arm lift up to rub at his back, and sighed quietly in content, grasping at Richie’s right hand in response.

“Another nightmare?” Richie asked, Eddie nodding in reply.

“Yeah,” The brunet replied, swallowing down the anxiety trying to stubbornly creep up his throat. “It… It was just the one that looked like me this time. T-The… The one that turned into the leper. It— It started crying. It… It wanted me to help it—”

“Save their babies,” Richie finished, looking a little forlorn, “Yeah. I know, Eds… The doll and I had a chat, too. He showed me… That— That thing was just… _Begging_ for someone to help it save its kids… It looked too much like you for me to ignore.” He admitted, Eddie nodding quietly and pressing his head into the older man’s bare chest quietly.

“It kept saying that it just wanted them alive.” Eddie spoke, starting to gently draw a shapeless pattern across Richie’s chest, “That their babies were all it wanted to keep safe and that it was starving itself to keep them alive. I— Their babies were just our babies, Rich. If… If I didn’t help them, and they died, I was just gonna be sitting and watching as our babies died. I— I couldn’t do that. I just couldn’t. It said we had to find some—”

“The Turtle. Yeah, I know, babe. The doll was talking about it. We have to— Well, I’ll have to, because I know how you feel about weed— Contact it.”

“Why?”

“That’s the uh— That’s the thing, Eds,” Richie smiled weakly, “ _It_ isn’t just some monster… It’s from space. So is the Turtle. I think we need to call Mike and I can explain all of it.”

…

Hearing his babies crying had never been more of a relief for Eddie’s rotten heart to hear. He didn’t even have to move from where he was all but immobile on his mattress before he felt the two wailing bundles being pressed into his arms via two icy ceramic arms.

“Hush,” Eddie croaked, weakly shuffling to sit up and hugging the two little ones close, “‘m here. You’re fine.” He whispered, his voice gravely and raw— The fact that he and Richie had forced themselves to _both_ go into the dream realm for such and extended period with no energy from Pennywise to streamline off of meant they had functioned within the realm off of nothing but their own reserves. Thankfully, they had both been all but gorged on the corpse Richie had taken just two days before, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t take an incredible amount out of them.

“I don’t think they understand much beyond the fact that we weren’t responding to them,” Richie pointed out, Eddie just wincing.

“Fuck off, okay, I know. I didn’t wanna fucking leave them but I had to get through to Wheezy— If they were there they would have been terrified and I am _not_ fucking doing that to them,” He snarled defensively, only to relax when he felt Luci’s cold little nose nudge weakly at his chest. He calmed, moving to lift his shirt and sighing quietly when the infant immediately latched on and clutched to him. The soft, chittering coo that Richie had become quite familiar with filled the room, and the doll sat down calmly next to the smaller demon.

“Gimme Mich,” He said bluntly, Eddie giving him a pointed look, “You know Luci pitches a bitch fit if she doesn’t have you herself when she’s done. Just give me Mich now before we have to deal with that.”

Eddie gave in at that, gently placing his youngest child into the arms of her father and letting his head rest on the curly-haired demon’s shoulder. “Considering how I originally only wanted them for more sex, we sure don’t fucking have it anymore.” He snorted bemusedly, Richie rolling his eyes.

“More like you don’t let me near your cunt if the girls are awake. Always bitching that they’ll hear us— As if they didn’t hear you wailing every time I fucked you when you were pregnant.”

Eddie’s face darkened, and he glowered up at the doll. “Fuck off, dickbag. There was never anyone else who could watch them.”

“We have Ben and Bev now,” Richie pointed out, Eddie’s eyes going wide at the sudden revelation. A wicked grin grew over the smaller demon’s face, and then it became clear that though much softer than before, he was clearly still the insane little demon who would go on rampages and viciously attack his boyfriend just for the fun of it. He was still unhinged, and that telltale grin had a mock heat burning within Richie’s gut.

 _There_ was the little fucker had he had reluctantly fallen for.

“Soon as they’re done you send the crib to their room and then you’re pounding me to the fucking mattress until I can’t fucking move,” Eddie said bluntly, taking his youngest daughter back and pulling his shirt up all the way so she could feed as well.

Richie just gave a dry chuckle low in his throat and tried not to smirk at the earful they were going to get from Ben and Bev as soon as they were done.

…

“What the fuck?” Ben peeked his head out from where he had been trying to make a cradle from scratch within the closet— he had broken down half of the wall for pieces and also so he could see his girlfriend without bothering her with noise from his tinkering.

“What?” He asked, only to catch sight of the double-wide crib that had suddenly appeared at the side of the room, two sleepy twins nestled against each other within the barred furniture.

“Seems Eddie and Richie needed a babysitter,” Bev huffed in annoyance, holding up a note that, in barely legible chicken-scratch, read _Watch them._ Not even a moment later, there was a loud thump from the other room, and then a heady moan, confirming the redhead’s suspicions. “So they could fuck.”

Ben just sighed, going over to his fuming girlfriend and kissing her cheek. “Calm down, Bevvy. We just keep a tally of how many times they pull this shit on us and we’ll get them back once _ours_ is born,” He hummed, Bev relaxing at that.

“Fine,” She sighed, going over to the crib and gently scooping up Michelle, blinking in surprise at how the infant immediately nestled against her with a weak coo of content, happy to be held again.

“What?” Ben asked, Bev just giving him an odd look.

“She’s cuddling me. Not two days ago she was terrified of me— What the fuck?”

Ben just shrugged, going over and scooping up Luci, who snuffled and fussed but quieted as soon as he began to gently bounce her in his arms. “Dunno,” He hummed, “Maybe parenthood is contagious?”

Bev just rolled her eyes.

…

“Hnnh—! Y-you fucker—! You grew it again—!” Eddie mewled breathlessly into Richie’s mouth, short of breath only due to the squirming blood clogging his throat.

“Let me fuck you more often and I wouldn’t get so pent up, dumbfuck,” Richie shot back, pulling away and wiping some of the blood and acidic saliva off of the side of his mouth with his hand. Eddie was underneath him, his chest still leaking creamy grey  milk from feeding the twins and body trembling as it was forced to adjust to his boyfriend’s thickened cock. His poor little abdomen was bulging from the size of it, and Richie’d had to hold the demon’s hands above his head to keep him from pressing against the swell obscenely.

Eddie just gurgled weakly in reply, trying to forcefully swallow down the rest of the insects gorging on his throat and crying out as an icy cold mouth was suddenly against his leaking chest, a choppy wail of surprise escaping him. “Y-you fucker—! T-Those are for the babies—!” He whined, only to shriek in surprised pleasure as the thick cock within him began to move as well.

“Shut up,” Richie ordered, pulling away from the brunet’s left breast and instead moving to the one on the right, chuckling as Eddie squealed in pleasure and began to arch his chest towards the teasing pressure. “This is the only part of your body that hasn’t fucking burned my tongue to pieces. You think your tits made this stuff special just for the girls to feed?” He asked, Eddie whimpering and nodding desperately.

Having Richie against the area felt incredibly wrong— As if the area simply wasn't meant for him. And yet, it felt amazing; the still-there pressure from feeding was easing and ebbing to nothing, which he hadn’t even realized he’d been craving. “‘s not supposed t’ feed _you,_ ” He tried to protest, his voice slurred as he felt two shockingly cold fingers press against the stretched opening of his cunt, stroking where they were connected and making him thrash about. “Haah—! T-That’s for th’— Th’ babies—!” He cried out, his eyes wringing shut from the pleasure.

Richie just grinned, pulling away and clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “You let them leak like that then all that’s gonna go to waste, dumbass. _Someone_ has to use it,” He hummed, Eddie just squealing in surprise as the hand that had been stroking the quivering muscle of his cunny instead reached up and roughly grasped at the swollen flesh of his chest, groping at it and forcing more of the creamy liquid to well up at the buds and dribble down the harsh planes of his ribs. The smaller demon’s head tossed back, and he clenched roughly around the cock still churning up his insides without a care, shuddering violently at how much pleasure burned hot within his belly and left a harsh burst of heat soaking between his legs.

“T-The girls use it—!” He tried to whine, Richie just shaking his head disapprovingly.

“They’d have to be at your chest twenty-four seven to get every last drop,” Richie pointed out, letting go of Eddie’s hands and watching as the smaller man immediately tried to swat his boyfriend’s hands away from his chest.

“Fuck off,” The brunet huffed, holding his hands over his swollen little bosom and trying not to whimper when Richie just shrugged and instead roughly grasped his hips and began to pound into him with fervor. His hands slipped away from his chest, one going to the rough material underneath them and digging his fingers in _deep,_ while the other immediately pressed against the moving bulge in his tummy.

“ _Fuck,_ you little _shit,_ don’t press on that,” Richie groaned low in his throat, the unbearable heat around his cock only tightening as he spoke, the pressure of Eddie’s hand only increasing it further.

Eddie just grinned wickedly. “I _wanna_ press on it!” He laughed, only to cry out loudly when Richie snapped his hips forward harshly and watched as the brunet’s eyes went wide— Seems he’d hit the smaller demon’s cervix to shut him up.

“You _sure_ about that?” Richie grunted, Eddie just wailing from the pleasure in reply. “Honestly, I could fuck you so full you’d end up with another one of those cum-periods. Watch as you try and feed the girls while you’re in the tub, shaking and trying not to moan as it all slips out of you. Have me finger it back in you and watch you try not to make a sound because Luci and Mich are asleep and you can’t wake them up?”

Eddie whimpered aloud, tightening harshly at the thought and starting to hurriedly buck his hips forward. He wanted—no, _needed,_ it now. He could easily see it— Richie would be behind him in the tub, him splayed on his lap with his legs spread, translucent grey cum oozing out of him while Richie fingered it out of him, forcing his poor little cunt wide as soon as it was all out so he could fuck more back into it— “G-Gonna cum—!” He hissed, his head throwing back as white-hot pleasure burned down his spine and heat soaked almost violently between them when Richie’s cold fingers suddenly stroked at the swollen bud of his clit. Tears streamed down his cheeks at the suddenness of it all, his chest heaving from exertion and breaths hiccupy and weak.

Richie just grinned, pressing his own hand suddenly on top of Eddie’s and watching as the smaller demon writhed violently underneath him, the poor little channel of his cunt unable to handle the pressure. He sobbed out as Richie came into him, icy-hot cum flooding into him and leaving him stuffed from the over-stimulating pleasure. By the time he came down from the high of it all, breathing ragged and cock soft, he was met with the sight of Eddie, crumpled underneath him and tears staining his face. The poor demon looked like a broken sex doll— Grey milk was still leaking from his chest, his stomach was almost distended from the cum within him, and he was shaking like a drugged-out whore, unable to do much beyond lay there and whine.

Pulling out was a whole ‘nother mess, because with it came the flooding ooze of cum out of the smaller demon, making him whine brokenly and squirm. “What?” Richie clicked his tongue in annoyance, already sensing that Eddie was going to ask something of him from how he was acting.

“Hhnn— F-Finger it out…” Eddie whined breathlessly, his tiny hand trying to reach for his tummy and press on it but being cut off by his boyfriend.

“Why?” Richie asked, Eddie just writhing weakly underneath him and trying to hide his face into the side of the mattress.

“Hhnn— T-They— Ahhn—! Th-They’re moving too much! F-F-Feel l-like ‘m g-gonna cum again—!” He squeaked out, his hand stubbornly dipping down to rub at his clit and moaning openly at the relief it brought.

Richie raised a thin eyebrow curiously; too _much?_ “Since when have too many maggots been an issue for you?” He asked, Eddie just squirming again and pressing two within himself, forcing himself open and groaning in relief at the rush of off-white cum that slipped out of him.

“T-They’re eating too much— Nnh—! ‘M gonna— T-They—!” He was babbling now, and Richie sighed, easily forcing three fingers in with Eddie’s two and blinking in surprise— it was like pressing his hand into a box full of static. The movement was _everywhere,_ and on instinct he pulled his fingers away, not really enjoying the sensation.

“What the fuck?” He asked, Eddie just whining loudly as his body was wracked with a shudder of pleasure. With it came another ooze of cum, tinted and swirled with black this time, and Eddie went lax, shaking like a leaf and forcing his fingers out of himself. His eyes wrung shut, and he clutched at the mattress underneath himself, breath hitching and cutting off violently as he came, a thick glob of the stuff slipping out all at once and leaving him blissfully emptier.

“‘ch— Rish—,” He slurred, his mouth barely able to get the words out, “Nee’ you— N-Nee’ you—!” The pleas turned into whimpers, and Richie sighed, laying down next to the smaller demon and sighing when Eddie turned and pressed against him like a lifeline, still shaking visibly and whimpering.

“Calm down,” Richie instructed calmly, letting his arms boredly loop around the smaller man and trying not to wince at how Eddie nuzzled against his collarbone, “I’m not going anywhere. Your body is freaking the fuck out over something— Just calm down and relax,” He ordered, Eddie just whining and pressing his legs together.

“N-No more maggots,” He slurred, seeming very much out of it, “C-Can’t— C-Can’t take ‘em anymore… Hh-Hhn.. T-They hurt—!”

Richie grabbed Eddie’s cheeks firmly, forcing him to look at him. “Calm. Down— Sleep. You’re fucking fine.” Richie looked at him, and Eddie hiccuped, his outburst having left him emotionally drained. “What the hell is your issue?” Richie finally asked, Eddie just squirming and trying to press his face into Richie’s shoulder to hide.

“I-I don’t know,” He finally admitted, his voice still breathy and high, “I-It’s— It’s like— L-Like I can’t breathe and I don’t fucking know why—!” Richie paused, mulling over something for a moment.

“You were acting like this when Bev and Ben came in while you had the twins.” He spoke, Eddie going stiff at the mention of his babies, “Wheezy acted like this when you had the real Mich too… Are you— Are you having one of those panic attack things?”

Eddie just sniffled, not sure when he had started crying again but actively doing so now. “I-I don't fucking _know—!_ Humans have those!”

Richie shrugged. “You’re acting like you’re having one.”

Eddie glared weakly at him, still clinging to him and deicing not to reply. He knew it had to be another effect of the pregnancy; more human emotions came more human reactions, and panic attacks were one of those. Finally, he let himself respond, voice weak and soft. “I think I was,” He whispered, “H-Humans have them. Wheezy had one when his babies were away from him… I-I am too.”

Richie sighed, tangling his hand into the mess of chestnut hair below him and cradling his boyfriend just a bit closer. “Then I have to figure out how to stop them.”

“And how do you do that?”

“We respond to it like humans do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c please lease a comment and tell me what you think!! i worked super hard on this chapter!!


	10. Loyalty Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once the human Eddie and Richie explain to Mike what’s happening, the Losers go to communicate with the Turtle to find out how to commence the Ritual of Chüd.
> 
> Meanwhile, within the house on Neibolt Street, Richie and Eddie are forcefully approached by the other Losers and are forced to help awaken Pennywise from his slumber— at which point, Eddie and Richie refuse—Something Bill and Mike won’t allow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay in this coming out, but it’s finally here!! Luckily, now, I have from here to the end plotted out!! Five more chapters after this, I hope you all enjoy!!

“So you’re telling me that the doll It transformed into to try and eat you… Told you how to kill It once and for all?” Mike raised an eyebrow, Richie sighing and shaking his head.

“Listen man, believe me, I _know_ how insane it sounds, but I swear on the twins I’m not shitting you on this one,” The dark-haired comedian insisted, wincing when Eddie gave him a dark look at bringing the twins into it.

“I had a dream too,” Eddie chimed in, shifting to move Michelle in his arms, keeping her little head nestled against the crook of his shoulder. “It was a gross version of me. All dirty and just… Generally nasty. It was crying— Almost like it was having a panic attack— Begging for me to save its babies…”

“Wait wait wait,” Mike interjected, “It has _babies?”_

Eddie nodded, sighing quietly and looking away from the burning, worried gaze in Mike’s deep chocolate eyes. “Yeah… Twins, just like me and Richie. We… We had a dream the night before Bev told us she was going to have her baby. The doll and the other me had Luci and Michy and we had theirs… They looked exactly like our girls, too.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Mike fretted, raking a hand over his head before placing a warm hand on Eddie’s shoulder, his free hand settling on Richie’s shoulder as well, “You guys have way more important things than this kinda stuff to be focused on.”

“We didn’t want to scare Bev,” Eddie said softly, “She deserved the right to celebrate for one night with everyone without the fear of It coming back. It wouldn’t have been fair to her, Ben, or their baby.”

“Damn,” Mike whispered, voice thick with conflicting emotion. He clearly understood what they were saying, and heavily let himself sink back down onto the couch in Richie and Eddie’s living room. He scrubbed a hand over his face, absorbing the information slowly. It was a lot to take in; here they were, a part of It literally _begging_ them to kill them— It could be a trap. “This Ritual of… Chüd? How do we know it works?” He asked. “For all we know, we could unknowingly be making It stronger, or could be waking It up sooner. How are we supposed to trust them?”

Richie cleared his throat. “That’s the thing, Mike my good man,” He hummed, a grim smile on his face, “They’re doing this, the whole ‘telling us’ thing on their own. The others basically kicked them out and left them to starve. They betrayed It— At least, I think they did. Somethin’ about how the Eddie from It was pregnant just like our Eds was, and then, once _their_ kids popped out, that Eddie got attached to them and eventually ignored what they were supposed to be doing—No fuckin’ clue what that was supposed to be, by the way—so he could take care of them.”

“Okay,” Mike said slowly, giving a long, drawn-out nod and thumbing over his chin, clearly deep in thought, “So, they starve themselves and basically go against their creator… So they can keep their kids? And their kids are just… Evil versions of your kids?”

Richie nodded, “Seems like it. ‘Course, they’re same age as our girls, so they’re not really evil, per say, just… Kinda look like demons. Luci’s is a doll like the evil me is— God, we gotta come up with a better name for them,” He cut off, Eddie rolling his eyes and nudging Richie imploringly. “Right, off topic; anyways, Luci’s version is a doll, and Michy looks like Eddie’s version. They cry and wail just like our girls do, and when I held one of them to get _our_ Luci from them, she curled up to me like any other baby would,” He explained.

Mike looked surprised. “So these things are in the house on Neibolt Street?” He asked, an eyebrow perked up curiously.

“I would assume so,” Richie said, “Considering there was a mattress, a crib and old baby toys in the room we were in. Black and grey stains on the mattress and everything.”

“Wait, you mean the other me gave _actual_ birth to them?!” Eddie’s face seemed oddly red, “God, no wonder it was crying so much… It kept saying that ‘ _I had them, they’re my babies, and—’”_

 _“‘If It gets to keep hers, I get to keep mine, too.’”_ Richie finished, watching as Mike’s eyes blew wide open. “Yeah, I remember. Doll-me said that once demon Eddie said that, they were both in deep shit. And since they were in such deep shit and being starved, they realized they had to get help. Basically, they gave us the cheat code on how to kill It before It wakes up again. Though,” The curly-haired man gave a small cringe at the words burning his throat as they left his mouth, “I’m pretty sure that the others of them are gonna try and wake It back up before we can kill It.”

Mike let out a long breath, sinking deeper into the plush couch and covering his eyes. “ _That_ sounds like something I’d rather not leave to chance. We’ve gotta do that ritual,” He said, sitting back up and resting his forearms on his thighs, “How do we start it?”

Eddie gave Richie a look, already knowing damn well what he was about to say and not looking amused in the slightest. “Smoke weed until a Turtle from space tells you what to do,” He said bluntly, cutting Richie off before the older man could speak.

“Aw,” Richie whined, sulking at the loss of his big reveal, “You stole my thunder, Spaghetti-Man.”

“You can have all the thunder you want when you smoke your weed, babe,” Eddie hummed, shifting to press a gentle kiss to Michelle’s cheek, “I’ll be watching the girls with Bev while you guys do that.”

Richie just sighed, letting his head drop onto Eddie’s shoulder with an unhappy whine. “You see how my Spaghetti-Man wounds me, Mike?” He fussed, Mike giving a weak laugh despite the raw gravity of the situation.

They may have had the upper hand for now, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut that they were completely and utterly _fucked._

…

“We’re so fucked,” Eddie whispered, voice hitched in a distraught, tight tone. As the night had dragged on, both of them utterly exhausted, they had been forced to sit and listen helplessly as the other Losers within the home caught on to the fact that they had been betrayed internally. As it was, Bill had already suspected them of such-- Well, now, it was painfully obvious.

How had they found out so quickly, you might be wondering?

The burning pain within their gut that signalled the human Richie and Eddie had approached Mike to discuss the Ritual of Chüd. Whenever that damned Turtle got involved in _anything,_ be it even just being _talked about_ by humans, they all felt it. It burned within their cores, hitting into Pennywise and by extension, them. Being awoken to agonizing pain that came from the Turtle being spoken about by the one group of humans that posed a real threat to the existence of their creator was about as big of a warning sign as the others could get, short of the Turtle just coming down from space to bitch slap them with a fin and wake them up like that.

Thus, Bill, Mike and Stan were all loudly trying to figure out how to prepare for the possible oncoming assault on their reason of existence.

“If we all go back into the cistern, It will awaken! Just long enough to kill of the humans and prevent that damned ritual!” Mike argued, his voice echoing through the halls and rattling the cobwebs with his intensity.

“Yeah, and what if waking It up kills us?! If we wake It up too early, we could lose our forms! Even worse, we could lose our forms _and_ It wouldn’t have enough power to bring us back for residual energy consumption again!” Stan argued back, sounding rather infuriated at the mere idea of summoning their creator prematurely only due to the mere _hint_ of their human counterparts attempting the ritual that would end them all.

“T-Then it kills u-us, S-St-Stan!” Bill, from how he sounded, was most likely red in the face up to his ears and trying to shout the stutter caused by that damn wood lodged in his throat away. From where Eddie was huddled in the room, crowded against the corner of the mattress with the twins nestled in his arms, Richie partially huddled around him like a ceramic plate of armor, he could hear footsteps rattling up the stairs, dust and crumbling wood shaking from the ceiling with each step.

Eddie was strung taut with distress, brows draw in a furrowed line and clutch on the infants in his arms borderline violent with a need to keep them _safe_ from the redheaded asshole storming up to their room. Richie seemed to have caught on to the smaller demon’s sentiments, and from the looks of his expression, shared that same idea. Honestly, it was a little unnerving; they were far too exhausted to fight with old Big Bill, but if push came to shove, they would.

“Relax,” Richie hissed, forcing his face into the complete blank mask it had always been before the twins had managed to shove some of the wriggling maggots out of the cavity where his heart should have gone and made space for themselves instead.

“You want me to fuckin’ _relax_ when Bitch-Boy is gonna storm up here like some fucking stuttering elephant?!” Eddie’s voice was barely containing its raw fury, and his teeth were about ready to grind themselves down to blackened stubs from how tightly they were grit together. “If Stanny the Manny was a— A little more like _me_ and ended up carrying a— A little hellspawn of their own, they’d be in the same fuckin’ boat as us! _It_ created us for the same fuckin’ reason we did what we had to do! Why are _we_ gonna have to take the piss for it?!”

Richie sighed, a hand drawing up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Will you fucking _listen_ to me for a goddamn _second,_ Eddie?!” He snapped, grabbing Eddie’s cheeks together in one hand and watching the demons blackened lips smoosh together, “I am telling you to calm down so they _stay away_ from Lucille and Michelle. You _know_ they will go for _them_ before they attack _us,_ and _that_ is not something I am going to stand for. Shatter me if you want when this blows over, but I will stop even _you_ from fucking them over— Even if you’re furious at me now, you can thank me when that scrambled excuse of muscle you call in your skull a brain catches up.”

Eddie just stared at him, eyes blown wide as Richie let go of his face. An uncomfortable silence settled over them, and Richie sighed again, opening his mouth to speak again but getting cut off by the smaller demon. “Lis—”

“You called us by our names,” Eddie said bluntly, staring down at the sleeping little bundles in his arms before he looked up at the doll in front of him.

Richie raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“You haven't done that before. Not all three of us,” Eddie seemed visibly confused, and Richie snorted in annoyance. Leave it to the smaller demon to be confused by something that was _literally_ staring him in the face, and had been for over a month now.

“You really are a stupid, cock-addicted whore,” The doll said bluntly, watching shocked rage flicker in Eddie’s eyes and holding a hand to pacify the protests already building on the smaller demon’s blackened tongue, “You think I wouldn’t do that shit every day if I fucking could? _Something_ has to get the point across that I’m serious.”

Eddie just blinked, fury melting from his features and eyebrows peeking up. “The fuck do you mean by that?”

“Human shit gets across, doesn’t it? And those are your _human_ names, dipshit. The fact that I basically sealed the death sentence of Big Bill’s trust in us for you three is _human_ level thinking— Not what we are. I’m willing to do more than play human for you three— Even if it means pissing _you_ off in the process. Now shut up and _let me_ be the one going into this shit emotion-first.”

Eddie just huffed, pressing his head into Richie’s shoulder and swallowing thickly; “You better know what you’re fucking doing, Richie.”

Richie just gave a wry smile. “I know about as much as you do, dumbass.”

…

“Wait, you wanna do this _now?!”_ Eddie hissed, watching Richie rummage through one of the many drawers in their bathroom before he retrieved his prized tin of devil’s lettuce from where it had been hidden away.

“No time like the present, Eds. If demon-us isn’t gonna wait to summon It, then _we_ aren’t gonna wait to summon the Turtle.” Richie hummed, shutting the bathroom drawer before leaving the room, Eddie still hot on his heels with Michelle cradled close to him. Mike was in the living room with Luci, who had awoken from all the talking and had deemed herself angry at her parents for some godforsaken reason, deciding instead that she wanted Mike to hold her.

“Where are you even gonna _smoke it,_ Richie?!” Eddie hissed, stopping in his tracks in the middle of the hallway. He hadn’t cared before the twins if Richie smoked weed in the house— Hell, he’d partaken in it a handful of times himself. But since finding out about his pregnancy, Eddie had insisted Richie refrain from doing so within their apartment. Richie had respected that request— Considering all that Eddie had been willing to endure for the sake of carrying their children despite the mental and physical stress he would take on as well, the older man thought it more than fair to give up smoking weed in the house.

“Mike’s car?” Richie Stopped as soon as Eddie did, Eddie’s eyes dropping in annoyance.

“Did you ask _him_ if that was okay?” Eddie asked, Richie flushing sheepishly.

“I’m sure he’ll understand, Spaghetti-Man! You wear the pants in this relationship— You carry the kids, you make the call. You don’t want me smoking in here, I won’t. I gave you my word on that the day you asked me, and I’m not gonna go back on it,” Richie’s eyes softened when he saw the look on Eddie’s face transform from annoyance to some indistinguishable mix of discontent and raw emotion. “Hey,” He spoke a bit softer now, stepping closer to Eddie and tilting his head, “What’s up? You’re givin’ me a weird look.”

“I don’t feel _good_ about this, Rich,” Eddie spoke, eyes flashing down to the infant still nestled in his arms, “This whole thing— The Ritual, It, the other us— Everything! It just— I have a bad feeling about all of it,” He admitted.

Richie sighed, cupping Eddie’s cheek and pulling him into a gentle embrace. “Eds, I’d be worried if you felt any other way,” He laughed dryly, “This shit is… Is happening way too soon for it to be fair. But this ritual thing— If it works and we kill that motherfucking clown one and for all, then dammit, I’ll go grab that old baseball bat if I have to. I want It dead more than anything else— Luci and Michy deserve to grow up without that kind of fear hanging over their heads, right?” Eddie nodded. “Exactly. So we gotta do this— For them. And if that means hotboxing Mike’s car, then his car is getting hotboxed.”

Eddie just sighed, resting his head against Richie’s chest for a moment. “At least apologize afterwards,” He spoke, feeling Richie nose against his hair and grin against his head.

“The man’s getting free weed. He can stand it for ten minutes.”

…

“We’re going to the Cistern.”

“And if we refuse?”

“Y-You _know_ w-wuh-what will happen if y-yuh-you do,” Bill spat the words out, staring coldly at Richie and Eddie with nothing but contempt. They had done nothing but sabotage themselves, and for what? Two brats that came out from Eddie’s cunt instead of thin air like they had? It was ridiculous, and they had taken it much too far to just shrug off as one of their stupid games of pretend.

Telling their human counterparts how to kill them was nowhere _near_ the realm of acceptable games to play.

“I think we should weigh our options,” Richie said calmly, cool as could be yet openly protecting Eddie and the twins with himself as the only barrier between themselves and the three demons in front of them.

“Your options are pretty clear here, Richard,” Stan said bluntly, “Help summon and we keep those two and Bev out of it. If not, you’re no better than humans.”

“And you’ll be treated as such,” Mike added, stepping up behind Stan and clapping a firm hand on his shoulder. “Get the picture?”

Richie turned to Eddie, who looked fully ready to fight, before glancing down at the sleeping little ones within Eddie’s arms, sighing deeply and letting his shoulders fall. “Fine,” He spoke coldly, “We’ll raise It with you.” From behind him, Eddie looked horrified, raw rage coloring his features and a scandalized cry escaping him. _“But_ ,” Richie continued, “That’s it. We give our energy. That’s it. We aren’t fucking fighting with you. Consider that chance gone the minute Big Bill decided to be a Big Bully and fucking break my kid’s neck like a toothpick.”

Mike’s scowl deepened, but he clicked his tongue. “Fine,” He cut sharply, eyes cold and blackened with anger, “But don’t expect a warm welcome from It when we finish what _you two_ forced us to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys liked it! It’s plot building but I promise it’ll only get more intense and interesting from here!! If you liked it, please give a comment and kudos below, they make my day and I really do read every single one and hold them close to my heart!!


	11. The Endurance of Edward Kaspbrak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finding out how to commence the Ritual of Chüd, Eddie and Richie discuss if one of them should stay behind to watch the twins— Eddie insists Bev stay with them, and Richie admits he would rather Eddie be angry at him and alive than prideful and dead— Eddie insists he won’t let anything happen to either of them. Unfortunately, the Neibolt Eddie and Richie are forced to summon Pennywise back to awakening— That, or face Bill and Mike collectively trying to truly kill them. Eddie is left severely weakened, and Richie plots to fight back after Eddie nearly dies upon trying to leave the cistern after Pennywise is awakened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im alive i swear

“Mike, what’s this all about?” Stan asked, crossing his arms uncomfortably over his chest and letting some of the tension bleed from his form as Bill wrapped a soothing arm around his shoulders. Beside them, Ben and Bev were in similar states of confused concern— Bev was only in a pair of sleep pants and an oversized flannel, clearly having borrowed it from her husband. Ben had her in his arms, as seeing the redhead looked half-asleep and was grumbling tired profanities to herself about how she loved her Losers far too much to let them pull this shit on her at three in the morning.

“Well,” Mike started hesitantly, swallowing down his doubt thickly and trying not to wince, “Eddie and Richie saw something a few days ago… Something that we can’t ignore.” The way everyone in the room tensed, backs straightening and eyes hardening, had Mike wincing again, but before he could speak again, Richie was placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

“What Michael here is trying to say is that yeah, we called you here for the exact reason you think we would call you guys in here,” He said bluntly, watching Stan’s face crack from within its cool facade and instead showing the raw fear in his eyes.

“H—How do you know?” The older man asked accusingly, more scared than anything and clutching to the hand Bill moved around his waist placatingly.

“Stan, listen— We _know_ how this kinda thing gets to you. We wouldn’t bring it up if we didn’t know for certain that It was coming back— But we are.”

“And how do you know that?” Ben asked, his arms moving to tighten around Bev’s waist, who looked rather conflicted about the whole thing.

Richie swallowed, scratching the back of his head after letting his long fingers rake through the mangled mess of curls atop his head. “You remember those versions of what scared us most as kids? Well… Mine was a doll of myself, and a dirtied, crazy version of Eddie… Well, they’re still around. Got busy like me and Eds did, too. Had themselves two kids identical to ours— They ended up caring about them, but only _they_ can keep them alive… They begged us to help them, and offered the one way to kill It for good as a barter.” He explained, watching the looks on his friends’ faces carefully.

Stan looked taken aback, Bill was a little surprised but didn’t seem upset, Bev still had that mottled mix of emotion on her face, and Ben— “You _willing_ helped them?!” He gaped.

“Haystack, listen—”

“Richie, this is more than just _our_ lives on the line now. You and Eddie have your kids, and Bev and I _just now_ are getting to experience ours. We can’t— We can’t risk our _kids_ because of some childhood promise! It’s unreasonable!”

“Ben,” Eddie cut in, finally entering the room empty-handed, both twins fast asleep in their cribs in the nursery, “We didn’t want to. But… There’s a version of you and Bev, too,” He revealed, “They carried their kids the same way I did, and the same way Bev is right now. They don’t get… Energy from It like those creepy demon-things do. Only _they_ can feed them… If those demons died, their kids would be left to starve to death. Those versions of their babies… They haven’t _done_ anything. They’re newborn babies— They cry and get scared just like ours… Sitting around and watching them die…” Eddie didn’t need to continue; his point had been made.

“S-So w-wuh-we’re just supposed t-to w-wuh-watch your kids d-die, o-or help It k-kuh-kill itself?” Bill asked, Mike nodding his head grimly.

“I’m afraid so,” He sighed.

Bill sighed in resignation, shoulders slumped in defeat and bright blue eyes dull with concern. “S-so, w-wuh-what’s the game p-puh-plan?” He finally asked, Mike’s eyes sparking hopefully.

“It would only take four of us, but to be on the safe side, five would be preferable. If we can take out the deadlights— The same thing that made all those kids float in the cistern and made Bev float too— and rip It’s heart out, then the Ritual can be complete. The Turtle will know once It’s heart is out, and will finish It off from there.” Mike explained, seeing the complete and utter confusion on everyone’s faces and sighing. “Okay, so the Turtle—”

He was cut off from his sentence by the screeching wail of Richie and Eddie’s eldest child, Eddie wincing and ducking his head. “Sorry,” He hissed, already turning heel to go collect the crying infant, “I’ll be right back.”

Richie was hot on his heels, an odd look having covered his face the moment Mike explained that it would have been preferable to have _five_ of them fight It. “I’m gonna help,” He said offhandedly, leaving the other five in the living room without another word.

Mike just scrubbed a hand over his face slowly, groaning softly and motioning to the couch. “Might as well sit,” He said dryly, “I think they’re gonna need some time.”

…

“Are we strong enough to teleport to the cistern?” Stan asked calmly, staring down at the crumbling well before them with thinly-veiled disgust.

“We _are,”_ Mike started, crossing his arms over his broad chest as Bill clambered over the broken brick and mortar, “But we need that energy to wake _It_ up. More energy It gets, the better. Wasting energy when it takes no longer to walk than it does to teleport is just _stupid.”_

Stan just scoffed bitterly at the other demon, turning his head to stare at Richie and Eddie, who were both standing silently at the foot of the molding wood of the staircase, Eddie visibly twitching and body taut as a bow. He looked about ready to fire himself off at anyone who grew close to him— His twins had been forced to stay with Ben and Bev, who had been knocked unconscious to keep from interfering. The twins were in a similar state, except Eddie had done it, using scraps of his energy to keep them quiet and asleep instead of just plain unconscious.

“What the fuck do you want, Squash-face?” Eddie bit out, eyes almost pitch black and hands tugged into rough fists at his waist, “Your fucked up head not gonna fit in the sewers? Huh?”

Richie grabbed Eddie by the hair, effectively shutting him up just as Stan’s chest puffed in anger at the insult. “Shut the fuck up, dumbass,” He snarled low in Eddie’s ear, Eddie just turning to glare darkly at the demon before him instead— He was in no mood to be told what to do even _more_ than he already was being told.

“Quit fighting like toddlers,” Mike spoke sharply, his voice cutting the bickering into silence immediately.

Both Eddie and Richie’s bickering quelled— Instead, the collective anger was turned to the smoldering demon before them, Eddie gritting his teeth and giving a low hiss in his throat. “Fuck off,” He spat coldly, turning away from the three and instead crossing his arms over his chest.

Bill, who had been trying to find rope to at least partially get them into the sewer line, gave a loud groan of annoyance. “F-Fuh-fuck it,” He huffed, “W-Wuh-We’re teleporting. Mike, y-yuh-you can bitch at me l-luh-later.” Without giving the taller demon a moment to protest, the five of them were being roughly yanked forward and being sucked into nothing before being spat back out in the middle of the cistern.

“What the fuck, Bill?!” Mike yelled as soon as Bill let go of them, eyes ablaze, “You know we could have just fucking jumped down the well! That was a huge waste of energy, you dumbass!” He shoved Bill forward, Bill just shoving him right back in similar anger.

“S-Suh-So you’re just g-guh-gonna yell at me instead of s-suh-summoning It?!” He mocked, Mike all but steaming with his fury and roughly pushing the burned demon into the tower of debris. A few loose pieces fell to the ground and clattered loudly onto the concrete below them, the noise ringing hollowly through the cistern.

“Are we actually doing this shit, or are you two going to fight like a bunch of— What was it you called us earlier, Mikey? _Toddlers?”_ Eddie asked sharply, eyes narrowed to nothing but blackened slits and gaze venomous.

“He has a point,” Stan sighed, walking over to where their creator had fallen in to return to his slumber, “We have shit we need to do. The sooner It awakens, the closer we are to being a step ahead of the human us.”

Eddie felt disgust coil in his stomach involuntarily, irrational anger and disgust clawing up his throat and itching at the back of his mouth like sandpaper. Richie watched on impassively, seeing the smaller demon react so violently to the mere reality that they were going to have to summon their creator hitting him at once and trying to keep himself emotionless.

Even as they gathered around the practical abyss that Pennywise had fallen into, Eddie was shaking, face drawn in a furious scowl and teeth bitten into his bottom lip to the point that oily black blood was oozing down his chin.

Something was wrong with him.

…

Richie waited patiently for Eddie to feed Luci, sitting calmly on their bed with Michelle cradled close to his chest. The infant had been awoken by her older sister, her father having had to calm her back down before she began to cry as well. Now, with her little head nestled against his shoulder and tiny arms trying to clutch at his shirt, the newborn was falling back asleep, the hand lovingly rubbing her back only spurring that sentiment further.

Eddie was on the loveseat across from their bed, feeding Luci quietly and not looking Richie in the eye— The elephant in the room was nearly suffocating them with its intensity, but Eddie refused to broach the topic first; he knew what Richie wanted to say, and he wasn’t to stand for it.

“Eddie,” Richie finally spoke, eyes flitting up from where they had been focused on Michelle to instead look his husband straight on, “You know what I’m going to say.”

“Mm,” Eddie hummed, “And you know my answer. I’m going with you,” He said calmly, his thumb gently stroking over Luci’s chubby little cheek and cooing softly at the little burble of content she gave in response.

“No.” Richie blurted out immediately, eyes wide.

“Richie, this isn’t up for discussion,” Eddie sighed.

“Yes, Eddie, it is,” Richie said firmly, eyes narrowed, “I can’t— If _anything_ happens down there, it can’t be to you. The girls _need_ you, Eddie— _I_ need you. I can’t risk something happening if we go down there— Fuck, if something happens to _both of us,_ what happens to Luci and Michy?”

Eddie’s eyes softened. “Richie—”

“Eddie, I can’t— I can’t even _stand_ to think about what would happen if you were gone. God, trying to imagine it makes me wanna fucking throw up— I would rather you be furious about it and _alive_ than happy and _dead,_ Eddie.”

“Richie, I made a promise too,” Eddie argued.

“So did Bev! She’s not gonna go down there— Stan made a promise too, and we both know he isn't going down there ever again. A promise means we all _agree_ to fight It again— Does that necessarily mean hand-to-hand, knee-deep in Derry shit? No. It means you’re _willing_ to do what you need to— The girls are how we got the whole _key_ to killing It once and for all— You _did_ make good on your promise. But you promised me something too, Eddie— That we weren’t gonna be stupid anymore.”

Eddie sighed quietly, “Richie,” He whispered, voice thick with emotion, “I’m not going to die. You’re scared— Okay, _I’m_ scared. But… We have to do this. _We_ have to— Those things came for _us,_ and the demon me is the one who started this whole mess… I _have_ to go down there,” He said firmly.

Richie’s face broke into a bitter smile, and he sniffled, looking at the infant still cradled close in his arms and pressing a weak kiss to her little head. “If you get hurt, I don’t know what I’m gonna do with myself, Eds,” He croaked, tears building in his eyes as he spoke and dripping slowly down his nose.

Eddie winced, feeling part of his heart crack as Richie wept softly against their baby girl’s soft, chestnut brown curls. “I won’t— I won’t get near It until I know it’s weak,” He spoke softly, knowing it was the best he could offer to his husband in terms of a compromise.

Richie just sniffled again, his face still painted in a saddened smile, eyes watery and face blotchy with red. “You better keep that promise Eds,” He whispered, “Because we have way too much to lose to risk anything more than that.”

…

The ritual used to summon their creator was like that of a blurry, fog filled haze. It was done by mentally reconnecting themselves to the deadlights that held the core of their creator’s being— A bit like an alarm clock blaring. The tower of collected items, stolen from Its victims, shook ominously as the air grew thick and soupy with tangible static, the environment around them similar to that of the deadlights themselves. It grew far warmer, some of the snow that had made its way into the clayey ground melting to greying slush beneath them.

“There’s a risk,” Mike spoke firmly, eyes rolled back to the whites as he connected directly to their master, “And they know. The Turtle could appear— You need to awaken.”

_“And what of the humans? Those who don’t fear?”_ The air itself seemed to have spoken the words.

“They are the ones who are retrieving the threat of the Turtle to us,” Stan spoke this time, his head turning stiffly to where Richie and Eddie stood, hands locked together, “It seems we’ve been betrayed. The one based off of Eddie and the one based off of Richie copulated while their human selves were expecting children of their own— Now they deem their own children more important than your child.”

Eddie shifted, hissing weakly under his breath and wringing his eyes shut as pain seared behind his eyelids and into every crevice of his mind. _Failure, failure, FAILURE._ “They already know!” He snapped, his anger turning to glee as the words within his mind pounded louder and louder. **_Failure, failure, FAILURE._ ** “They already know how to kill you! They already talked to the Turtle!” The demon was laughing now, oily blood spilling from the split in his lip and eyes blown impossibly wide, “You can call me a failure all you want but I got what I wanted!”

Like lightning across the sky, harsh static stinged the air with a bolt of light that blinded the group for a moment. There was a loud _Thud!_ followed by a shrieking cry of delirious pain from Eddie, the demon rolling on the ground with his head clutched violently in his hands. The other four demons were dropped back to the ground from where they floated above the cistern, Richie watching in frozen shock as Eddie screamed and cried.

“ _Failure! Failure! You think you have that right?! Your children are no more than meat! No more than fear to be consumed!”_ Its voice was thundering within the concrete walls, and Eddie just laughed madly, clawing at his head as the words shook every cell of his body to mush. Inky blood was flowing freely from his nose and ears, his mouth coated to his chin with the acidic black and teeth a bloody mess of black and grey.

“You know why I did it! You know why!” Eddie screamed back, tossing around once more and screeching openly as more white-hot pain tore across his abdomen. “I pushed them out! I did exactly what you did! You think I don’t deserve it any less than you?! The Turtle can do what it wants— It could bring me back as you if it wanted! You’re just know I’m a better fucking _you_ than you are!”

The room grew silent, before the sound of roaring water flushed within the room and left no sound left to be heard beyond it. Eddie grew still, his mouth still open in a hysterical laugh and body shaking visibly. As if the static in the room had become visible, particles began collecting themselves until they were clustered within the mouth of the main cistern, Pennywise’s true form, the spider, emerge, crawling from the hole and easily shoving away the other four demons so it could instead tower over Eddie’s small form.

A piercing cry rang through the room, over the roaring water within the ears, as the spider pinned Eddie down with one of its sharp legs, blood splattering and burning the floor as Eddie’s shoulder and rib was impaled all the way through the floor. More screams filled the watery air as the small demon was stabbed by his creator’s legs, blood coating the floor and burning it through.

Richie watched, frozen in place and feeling the porcelain of his skin crack and shadow from his raw internal force to try and move.

Eddie was going to die at this rate.

Gritting his teeth, he hissed lowly under his breath, feeling himself start to shatter as he forced himself to move, raw pain burning across every inch of his skin. He forced himself forward, letting out a furious roar as his display distracted their creator just enough to take its attention off of his demented little boyfriend. Beside him, Stan and Mike realized what he was doing, eyes widening.

If they tried to stop him, they would be forced to free themselves as well, effectively distracting their creator further.

They lost either way.

“You wanna go try and kill our babies?!” Richie called, his voice hoarse, “Come fucking try it! I’ll return the favor to you!” He laughed, watching as the spider turned away from its massacring of Eddie to instead direct its anger to him.

Eddie could escape— At least until their human counterparts arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment and kudos abt how u hate me for bein evil to neibolt eddie


	12. To Play House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben, Mike, Eddie, Richie and Bill enter the Neibolt house while Stan stays with Bev and the twins to fight Pennywise and banish him once and for all— The Neibolt Richie offers some unexpected help. Richie attacks Bill, Mike and Stan, refusing to allow them to try and destroy the house on Neibolt Street in wake of summoning Pennywise— His attack offers ample time for the human Losers to attack Pennywise and seal him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im alive i swear some serious shit has happened since the last update

The literal stabbing pain in his shoulder stopped abruptly, but beyond the blood pouring out of his ears and body throbbing with violent agony, Eddie couldn’t tell what had stopped it. Still, a chance to get away was a chance to get away, and despite how his right arm was a gory mess of shredded muscle and bone, he forced himself to roll towards the large open gate where the human Losers had escaped from ten years before.

He refused to die.

Coughing up more of his own oily blood, he was rather disgusted to find that it was more like vomit, the blood coagulated and clumped with pieces of tissue as well. His body was practically falling apart— A likely result of Pennywise screaming at him within and literally causing his body to start destabilizing. The only reason it had stopped was because the demon had been distracted by something.

What had distracted—?

Eddie froze. _“Richie!”_ He shrieked in horror— The fucker was taking on Pennywise, _by himself,_ to, what, have him escape?! To _where_?! There was no point if Richie wasn’t there with him— He could barely move, let along grab the twins and leave!

From beyond where he was dragging himself through the greying mush of snow, decaying items from the tower, leaves and greywater, Richie had managed to hold off Pennywise decently well, ducking and weaving between his frozen counterparts and practically using them as shields. Damaging them meant damaging itself, and them trying to fight back just served as a distraction.

It was bad, but it gave him time to think. If those damned humans would just _show up already—!_ He could feel them making their way to the Neibolt house, could feel their raw determination and fear burning through his own veins, a result of the human impertinence he and Eddie had been tainted with after the twins were birthed. If they could just _get here_ _already,_ he could get Pennywise down long enough to have them start the Ritual. Once the Ritual was started, it was over for his creator.

But he couldn’t hold the damn thing down for more than a few minutes at the most on his own, and Eddie was literally crumbling to pieces from his bloody spot on the ground.

They were fucked.

…

“Go right,” Eddie said firmly, trying not to pay mind to the icy cold greywater that was splashing up to his knees and freezing his jeans to his shins. Dressed only in a thick hoodie and jean jacket for mobilities sake, he was trying to focus on leading the way before the cold sunk into his bones and rendered him immobile with trembling shivers. Beside him, Richie was holding a flashlight in one hand, and had a firm grip around his waist with the other. Eddie had always been their navigator. Even when they’d been trying to find Stan within the sewers on their search for Bev, despite having no real way to know where either of them were, he had known exactly where to go. They’d been able to find Stan within minutes thanks to the small brunet— Who knows how detrimental it could have been had he not been there.

“You sure?” Ben asked warily, trying not to wince at how the icy water sloshed up against his shins and the walls of the sewer with each step.

“Follow me and you’ll know,” Eddie quipped back despite himself, a grim smile forcing its way onto his cold-numbed cheeks. Richie laughed dryly beside him, a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

From just ahead of them, a little to the right, echoes of manic laughter rang through the crumbling concrete of the sewer walls, sending chills that weren’t at all related to the biting January air down all five of the men’s spines. “I wasn’t the only one who heard that, right?” Mike asked, his voice far more steady and confident than his face betrayed.

“No, I heard it too,” Eddie breathed out, pausing for a moment to listen closely and swallowing thickly. “It’s just up ahead. It has to be the other me— Its voice sounds the same as it did in the dream.” With that, he sped forward, ignoring the hesitant cries of _‘Wait!’_ and _‘Eddie!’_ from his friends. Richie caught up to him first, face incredibly pale and eyes wide with worry.

“Eds, c’mon, wait up a second,” He rushed out, a little out of breath from trying to catch up from his fast pace through the icy water and harsh cold burning into his lungs. “You promised me—”

“I know what I promised, Rich, and I know what I’m doing. Something sounded wrong with him, if something went wrong on their end then going in head-on isn’t smart.” Richie opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by blood-curdling screams from Eddie’s demonic counterpart, all five of the men in the sewer halting in their tracks and clamping their hands over their ears, trying to block out the violent screams ringing through their ears and intensifying as they went through the tunnels.

“What the fuck is that?!” Richie yelled, trying to raise his own boisterous voice above the screeching wails of whatever-the-fuck it was making the noise.

“Something wrong, that’s what!” Eddie yelled back, rushing off in the direction of the wails without a second thought.

Something was seriously awry, and if they didn’t get there, the Ritual itself may be the least of their worries.

…

“Fuck!” Seems holding Bill, Mike and Stan still was no longer in Pennywise’s interest. Richie clattered to the floor, the porcelain of his cheek shattering against the icy concrete as he was quite literally barreled to the ground by Mike. He hissed, trying to fight the demon off as he heard It go back to finish off Eddie. “Get the fuck off of me, you piece of shit!” He roared at Mike, trying to kick him off and just barely getting in a bit of ground before he felt himself being yanked up by his hair by Stan, a fist immediately planting itself into his face, curtsey of Bill.

“W-wuh-what, R-Ruh-Richie? Scared y-yuh-your bitch is g-guh-gonna bite the d-duh-dust?” Bill mocked, his face twisting in anger at his stutter forced its way through his mouth. “F-Fuh-First thing I’m gonna d-duh-do is get you b-buh-back for the shit y-yuh-you did to my t-thuh-throat.” He snarled, pulling his fist back and aiming for the doll’s neck this time.

Richie thrashed about, hissing and yelling as Stan forced his throat open via the raw hold on his hair and Mike held him still in a full Nelson. He swung a leg up, managing to knock Bill off his feet for a moment and taking the opportunity to swing his body weight back, sending Mike crashing into Stan as the burned demon tried to hold the doll still. “Fuckin’ try me, asswad!” Wrenching himself free of Mike’s temporarily loosened grip, he stood up straight, forcing Bill up and all but throwing the other demon at Stan and Mike as if they were pins and the redhead was the bowling ball.

Mike was the first to stand, scraps of burned flesh crumbling from his ashen skin from where the impact of Bill had been slammed into him. “I’m getting really fucking tired of dealing with this _shit,_ Richie.” He snarled, eyes darkened in annoyance.

“Then give up.” Richie barked, still just as stubborn as ever, wiping away some of the maggots spilling from his cheek. There were less of them than he was used to— What the hell was happening?

“You must think I’m as stupid as you are if you think I’m gonna pull that shit. Unlike _you_ and Eddie, _I_ stay loyal to what _made me.”_ Mike laughed back darkly, stomping right back over to Richie and grabbing him by the collar. He raised a fist, fully ready to absolutely pummel Richie to a maggoty pulp, when he paused. “Fucking shit,” He snapped, throwing Richie to the floor in anger.

From beyond their struggle, Eddie had managed to get himself decently close to the tower of stolen items from Pennywise, grinning violently as the spider tried to corner him. “Come and get me, bitch!” He laughed, coughing wetly into his uninjured elbow and wiping the oily blood on his sleeve. He had managed to formulate a bit of a plan in the few minutes he’d gained from Richie’s distraction, currently trying to scale himself back into the relative safety of where Pennywise had shown off his little dance to Beverly ten years prior. Basing the plan off the assumption that It would do whatever it could to attack him, if he could get within the container, It would do whatever it needed to reach him.

Even if that meant crashing into the tower of precariously-stacked toys, clothes, knick-knacks and god-knows-what-else.

Scrambling up the loosened pile, the thin flesh of his hands easily shredding apart under the rusted metal and plastic he was trying to grip onto. He made it to the still-open storage container that Pennywise had shown off his dance to Bev to, laughing boldly when he heard the unmistakable creak of scraping metal against concrete. “You gonna come get me, spider boy?!” He yelled, grabbing the top of the container right as he saw the large blur of black barreling right towards him. He had _one_ shot to time this right, or he was done for. Gritting his teeth and holding onto the top of the container as best as the shreds of his right arm and hands could manage, only once he felt the telltale creak of a large body hitting the tower and shifting everything _hard_ backward, he yanked the opening to the crate closed.

The whole thing was suddenly sent tumbling as Pennywise slammed its body into the tower in its attempt to attack its rouge other half. Eddie was slammed into the sides of his little protective crate, screaming in pain as his body was basically thrown around like a rag doll in a washing machine, the gore just barely keeping his right arm attached to his body pulling even harder apart and basically hanging by the oily threads of muscle in his ligaments. It only last a moment, and then it was quiet, proving his plan to be a success.

Pennywise was trapped under his own collection of kleptomaniac treasures.

...

“Eddie! This is crazy— Wait!” Ben yelled, managing to catch up to the smaller man if only because of his long legs managing to power through the icy water faster than the others could.

Eddie had reached the gated opening to the main cistern, trying to pry the frozen metal open with trembling fingers. He had his flashlight gripped between his teeth, eyebrows drawn into a determined crease and eyes ablaze. Pulling one hand away from the unbudging metal, he grabbed the flashlight back out of his mouth, turning to face Ben as the others caught up. “Listen, Ben, I get it— You’re scared. Your kid isn’t here yet. But mine are, and the Neibolt ones are too. That version of me dies, _they_ will die slowly by starving. I am _not_ letting that fucking happen to them. _No_ version of my babies are dying if I’m still alive to fucking stop it,” He said firmly, looking to Richie and letting his gaze soften slightly. “I’m sorry, Rich. I know I promised you, but… We have to. I’ll tell you know what I told you when we found out… I don’t care what it takes… I’m not gonna let any kid of mine suffer. If… If I let them suffer, I’m not better than my own mother.”

Richie watched as Eddie turned back to the frozen wheel that opened the main gate to the cistern, swallowing down the pain bubbling in his throat and wringing his eyes shut. He pushed forward ahead of Ben, placing his own flashlight in his mouth and grabbing Eddie’s hands, his far-larger hands easily dwarfing his husband’s and his grip on the wheel tightening. “‘M not lettin’ you do this alone,” He huffed out through the flashlight, “You stop me from doin’ stupid stuff all the time. ‘S my turn to do that f’r you now,” He grinned wryly, tugging the wheel harshly to the left in time with Eddie.

There was a loud noise of metal screeching as the ice surrounding it cracked and the rust that had formed over ten years from floods of greywater, changing seasons and general age was forced apart. Richie grinned, pulling his hands away and tugging his husband back with him to keep the flyaway icy greywater off of him.

“Okay, we’ve got the damn thing open,” Mike laughed wryly, “But we need a plan. A plan that does _not_ involve _running off on your own,”_ He gave a pointed look to Eddie and Bill, who both seemed rather interested with the greywater slush at their shoes in that moment. “Suggestions? Anyone?”

Before anyone could respond, there was a loud crash that had the tunnel itself shaking with its intensity, an inhumane roar following it almost immediately that had raw chills violently forcing its way up the spines of all five Losers standing just outside the mouth of the cistern.

“What the fuck was that?!” Richie yelled as soon as the shaking stopped, his hold on his husband relaxing just slightly. Eddie gently shrugged him off, knowing the older of them was freaked out by the whole thing but also knowing they were never gonna get anywhere if they all kept freaking out.

_“That_ was our cue to go help!” Eddie yelled back, forcing himself into the barely open gape of the sewer without a care and ignoring the horrified cries of protest that came from his friends when he went in.

The others weren’t even a minute behind him, splashing through the icy sludge of greywater and realizing not even a moment later why Eddie had stopped dead in his tracks— The tower of Pennywise’s treasures had collapsed, a gigantic spider-looking creature trapped underneath the decaying rubble and writhing violently under what was most likely its own self-imposed prison. It was making a god awful screeching, clicking noise, trying to force its legs up so it could stand once more and free itself.

“Holy shit,” Richie breathed out, his flashlight dropping from his hand with a deafening splash that seemed to echo far too loudly in the cavern to be normal.

Eddie stiffened, feeling a set of eyes fall on him, raw evil hitting him with the gaze alone that rendered him frozen for a moment. He felt his chest seize up, panic settling over him in a thick blanket and and trying to steal the breath from his lungs. “Fuck,” He croaked, one hand scrambling on instinct for his pocket to find his inhaler, before remembering he hadn’t _had_ his inhaler since the first time they had fought Pennywise and banished him to the depths of the sewers. At first he couldn’t tell what it was that was staring at him, but then he realized it was in fact Pennywise— The spider had managed to turn just enough to stare at him, multiple sets of glowing eyes burning a furious red.

All at him.

The rubble shifted and Eddie realized what was happening right as it occurred— It had freed itself from the rubble, and was coming for him.

_“Run!”_

...

Something about everything that had happened in the last minute and a half felt like it had dragged on for the expanse of a year— Mike had finally let him go when the tower came down, having been crippled by the raw fury and pain that had rendered Pennywise immobile. That definitely seemed to be _one_ perk of no longer being controlled by Pennywise’s every whim— Being trapped under the rubble didn’t render _them_ trapped.

So Richie ran. He forced himself to basically hurdle over the piles of now astray garbage, clambering over the many different objects so he could get to the container. Only once he nearly _fell into_ a jagged hole within some awfully torn and worn sides did he find what he was looking for— _Eddie._

“Fuck— You little fucking shit, you better not be fucking dead!” He hissed, scrounging through some of the smaller debris that had managed to get inside of the container. It took a few blind, panicked moments of searching to grasp at something that was uncomfortably wet underneath his palm. “Fuck— C’mon you bastard, you’ve handled worse—“ The doll grunted harshly, yanking the limp weight without hesitation and freeing Eddie’s unconscious form from its confines. Eddie looked _awful,_ his body bleeding profusely from numerous scratches and abrasions of varying degrees and his right arm basically attached to the rest of his body by a few threads of muscle. Sure, they were slowly starting to reattach themselves back together, but it looked _horrible._ The little tumble through the container had fucked up his already-beaten form to basically an oily black pulp, and it was honestly something that didn’t even _look_ like they could recover from. “Shit— Little fucking— _C’mon!”_ Richie shook at Eddie almost desperately, trying his hardest to get the smaller demon awake and functioning again. “The humans are _here,_ dumbass! We’re _almost there,_ you fucker! _Wake up!”_ He yelled, desperation starting to burn through him.

Why wasn’t he waking up?!

Gritting his teeth, Richie pulled Eddie free the rest of the way, panting almost frantically and growling in frustration low in his throat before raising his hand and smacking Eddie hard across the face. _“Wake up!”_ He yelled.

Eddie stirred, the smack quite literally shaking his whole head until he was forced back into consciousness. His eyes slowly fell open, bloodshot and bleeding black slowly down the planes of his nose. He tried his best to glower at Richie from the pain, groaning low in his throat but stiffening harshly when he felt two arms clutching tight around him.

“W-Wha—What?” He croaked, all emotion except confusion melting from his form and leaving him bewildered. Why was— Why was Richie _hugging_ him?

“You’re so fucking stupid, you little shit,” Richie grit out, forcing Eddie’s beaten form into his lap, “You die, all of this is fucking pointless. You understand me?”

Eddie just looked confused, slowly letting himself relax for a moment. “Why… Does it fucking matter?” He finally grumbled.

“Because I have no fucking reason to keep fighting if you’re not here,” Richie snapped bitterly, “Your dumb game of house rubbed off on me…. You got me playing it, dumbfuck. So you can’t leave me hanging. You understand me?”

Eddie just laughed wetly, his throat aching with blood trying to spill from his lungs, most of his internal organs nothing more than a mushy pulp that were scrambling to recover themselves. “You care,” He simplified.

“Yeah,” Richie finally whispered, “I guess I fucking do. So don’t pull this shit again, you got me?”

“I do what I want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so college, depression and abusive friendships being ended have left my gay ass drawn out and exhausted but I REFUSE to abandon this fic. we’re so close to the end!! Only three chapters left and it’ll be complete. We can do it guys! I hope you liked it!!!


	13. Act 5, Scene V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben, Richie, Bill, and Eddie are caught within the deadlights as Mike scrambles to attempt the Ritual of Chüd; Neibolt Eddie sacrifices a part of himself to free his human selves, and the ritual is completed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to everyone who has read TNEM this past year. This is my gift from me, to all of you. Thank you all so much!

I “Okay, Mike, what was our whole _plan_ for this part, again?!” Richie yelled as all five dove in different directions, trying to flee and find the nearest weapon possible to weaken the already injured and malnourished Pennywise.

“Find a weapon, and beat this thing until we can rip its heart out!” Mike called back, managing to grab a thick length of chain and feeling himself give a wry grin despite himself at the flashback of just how similar this was to ten years prior.

“Somehow I feel like that wasn’t from the original plan!” Richie narrowly dived away from what seemed to be falling debris from the crumbling remnants of the tower as soon as he spoke, hissing when he felt his shoulder graze the hard concrete underneath. That was probably going to leave a mark. But as the rubble and dust from the fall cleared enough for him to see, within his view came something he really wished he would never have to see again but was happy nonetheless to have it again; the same baseball bat he had used to ‘welcome’ Pennywise to the Losers Club ten years before. Just as soon as he had the wooden handle gripped in his palm, he heard a hiss of pain from just behind him, turning instinctively with the bat clutched tight and ready to swing.

“I thought we were past the whole ‘revenge’ thing by now, Trashmouth,” God, it was _never_ going to _not_ be weird that he was now fighting alongside the same doll that represented what he still feared the most. Honestly, if someone had told Richie a year ago that he would be quite literally going up to bat for the doll version of himself and the demonized, dirtied version of his husband for the lives of their now-demonized children, he would have-- Well, to be fair he probably would have asked how the fuck they knew what had happened to him in the summer of ‘89 before anything else. But other than that, he would have laughed in their face.

It was just too foreign to wrap his head around.

“I-- Fuck off, Doll-Boy. I’m far from trusting your porcelain ass, mirrored kids and telling us how to kill _It_ or not. Don’t sneak up on me and maybe next time I won’t have to respond immediately with threatening to shove a wooden bat up your ass,” Richie knew he was just bluffing, and he also knew the doll could see right through his facade, but neither of them seemed to be willing to point it out, so they dropped it.

There was a far more pressing matter that was currently in a messy pile of gore in the demonic-Richie’s arms, anyways.

“What the hell even happened to him?” Richie finally asked, the seconds ticking by like hours as he scanned over the same thing that had nearly gotten him killed by _It_ twice, just because he _looked_ like Eddie. God, even as a teenager his love had been far from subtle, that was for sure.

Eddie was barely clinging to consciousness as he lay slumped against the ball socket of Richie’s chest, unable to do much of anything when it came to moving or even exerting any sort of effort. His right arm wasn’t much better in terms of reattachment, and most of the deep contusions and gashes across various areas of his body made him look like-- Well, to be completely honest, he looked like he had been tossed in a blender.

“ _It_ attacked him. Nearly tore his arm off. Little shit managed to escape and _It_ just went berserk. I have to give the little dumbfuck a bit of credit-- He hopped in a storage container to keep himself safe before _It_ crashed into the tower to get him. Sent the whole thing crashing on both of them,” As Richie spoke, Eddie, who had been eyeing his boyfriend’s human counterpart warily, managed to shift himself marginally.

“Qui’ fuckin’ aroun’,” The brunet slurred angrily, pointing to the human before him with his chin before jerking it to where Pennywise had managed to at the very least gather its wits before going on another bloodthirsty hunt for the Eddies. “Go fuckin’ kill it. I gotta plan.”

Richie didn’t need to be told twice.

…

“This is crazy, this is crazy, this is _crazy--!”_ Eddie was only repeating that statement because, at this point, he really had nothing else to keep his mind from hopping the train to _completely fucking losing it._

He was being chased by a demon spider from space that nearly ate him ten years earlier in the exact same sewer as it did when he was thirteen. The only difference between then and now was that he was _now_ being chased because his evil self --that was actually a _part_ of the same thing chasing him-- had gone behind its creators back to keep its mirrored, evil family together.

Yeah, shit was crazy.

Eddie’s mind just chose to acknowledge that for now, and save the rest of the whole shitstorm of trauma that was going to unload itself on his mind for _after_ he had survived the night.

“Eds!” Oh, thank fuck. Eddie didn’t think he would ever more happy to hear that damned nickname from his beloved husband than he was right now.

“Rich!” He cried, rushing over to Richie and nearly tackling him in a hug from where he had hidden in a rather large mess of crumbling and rusting toys. Pennywise was still far weaker than he had been when they were thirteen and was still heavily dazed from having his stolen goods topple on top of him, which was a win for the Losers in that regard.

“Thank fuck,” Richie whispered, dropping the baseball bat in his hands and instead tucking a hand around Eddie’s tiny form, his gangly fingers tangling into Eddie’s chestnut brown hair. They had been separated in the fog for not even five minutes, but considering this was life or death-- Having his husband in his arms, relatively unharmed and _alive--_ It was currently his biggest win out of the situation as a whole.

A little win was better than no win at all.

“I was only gone four minutes, baby,” Eddie laughed breathlessly, his head pressing into Richie’s shoulder, “I’m okay, Rich, I promise. I’m okay,” He whispered soothingly, his own small fingers starting to comb through Richie's own haphazard black curls as Richie clutched him tight.

“Four minutes was almost four times as long as it took for us to almost lose Stan, Eds. I’m not taking any fuckin’ chances with this fucker,” Richie spat, shakily trying his best to exhale all of his fears of losing the love of his life.

“Richie, I promised you I wasn’t gonna let you lose me,” Eddie insisted, “And I plan to _keep_ that promise. Okay? Now gimme that damn baseball bat and let’s go kill this fucker.”

Richie just laughed wetly, pressing his forehead against Eddie’s own and slipping a sweet, chaste kiss onto the smaller man’s lips before he pulled them apart with great reluctance. “There’s the little firecracker of a husband I fell head over heels for.”

…

“What plan are you thinking you can _do_ at the moment beyond being a pile of mush?” Eddie just laughed mockingly at his boyfriend’s words, blackened eyes rolling sarcastically in their sockets at the doll still holding him close.

“You can eat me, dickbag, how about that?” The brunet spat scathingly, managing to sit himself up and smirking wryly when Richie glared at him. “I’m just fuckin’ around. Soon as the human have _It_ on the ground, I can keep ‘im down while they all finish the Ritual. Throw me on top of _It_ while it’s heart is still out an’ I can do what I do best-- _Destroy shit.”_ His eyes had gone wide with a wicked glee at the idea of being able to tear the hole where his very creator’s heart had once been to nothing more than massacred flesh and tissue.

“And how the hell do you expect me to get close enough to do that with Big Bill, Staniel and Mike lurking around?” Richie deadpanned, Eddie just scoffing bitterly at him in response.

“What exactly do you think _we’re_ gonna be doin’ while the humans fuck _It_ over?”

“Waiting for you to heal so you _don’t_ fall apart as soon as I put you down?” Richie raised an eyebrow, his voice mocking as he spoke. “We aren’t fucking fighting with the humans, dumbass. You’re already a destabilized mess-- I don’t need you trying to go play the anti-hero, too.”

“This isn’t up for fucking _discussion,_ Rich. I’m fuckin’ fighting for my babies. Humans are doin’ their part, ‘m doin’ mine.” Eddie tried to force himself up, only to cough and choke up a rather large amount of coagulated blood and tissue. The usually solid black material was now tinged red, and he shuddered, slumping back against RIchie with a pained gag.

“That’s what I thought,” Richie said, not really happy per say that it took _that_ much to prove to Eddie that they _couldn't_ go out there and go fight for their kids when Eddie was still half a foot in the grave as it was. “We sit here and we wait.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie hissed and he turned back up against the cold ceramic of his boyfriend’s chest.

He was going to help in whatever way he could. This was the life of his children on the line.

…

“Where the fuck are they?!” Stan screamed at Bill, trying to attack the scattered humans so Pennywise could recuperate.

“We’re trying too hard,” Mike called back before Bill could reply, forcing one of the many crumbled piles of debris off of him, “We need to go back inside of _It_ temporarily and strengthen the deadlights. Catch all five of them in it and kill them off.”

Stan, despite disagreeing with the idea of going back inside of their creator for the sole reason of strengthening the deadlights, nodded in agreement, forcing his way over the rubble in an army crawl back to Pennywise’s crumpled form. After Eddie had bolted, in its blind of rage, the demonic spider had crashed head-first into the retaining wall of the sewer, and as a result, had been knocked unconscious. As it was, _Its_ true form was far weaker than its clown form and wasn’t nearly as durable against attacks and damage of any kind.

“L-luh-lets go, t-th-then,” Bill spoke from where he had been buried under the debris, his head popping up and looking a little worse for wear. They _all_ looked a little run down-- An unfortunate side effect of their creator’s true form coming out far before it was ready. As the three forced their way back to their creator, standing in a circle with their arms outstretched around the creature, it became apparent to the other seven people in the cistern what was happening only once the fog began to fill the room. The air grew soupy and thick with static, and the effect was immediate-- Mike, Ben, Bill, Richie, and Eddie all stood from their hiding places in confusion, weapons at the ready.

“What is this shit?!” Richie yelled at the five grouped together once more, his body heavy and sluggish as he moved. Everyone else seemed to be under a similar stasis, Eddie effected worst of all-- A probable effect of Pennywise’s raw fury directed towards him.

“Probably something we don’t wanna know about,” Mike huffed, gripping the chain in his hand a bit tighter before he saw Eddie swaying. “Shit,” He hissed, rushing to help the smaller man stay steady with a firm arm around the others slim shoulders. “C’mon Eddie, we need you here with us. You alright?” He asked, Eddie just nodding and pressing a hand to his head.

“It feels like _It's_ in my mind. I don’t know if _It’s_ so weak that it can’t tell the difference between me and the _other_ me, or if it’s doing it on purpose,” The brunet explained, thanking Mike quietly for keeping him steady before moving from his hold to instead stand strong. “Doesn’t matter, though. _We_ are gonna kill _It_ , once and for all. It can try to poison us with whatever-- Whatever the hell this fog is, but we’re stronger than it.” With that, he turned tail and stomped off, a large, rusted crowbar in hand, off in the general direction of where the fog was thickest.

It was a good a place as any to start.

…

As soon as the fog had filled the room, Eddie had known they were fucked. “Those ass-sucking dickbags!” He roared, trying to force himself up and instead managing to nearly tear himself in two. “They went back in— We’re so fucked,” He was laughed if only to hide is frustration and distress at not being able to do anything, instead trying to claw at Richie.

“Well I already told you our plan. Don’t try and fuck it up,” Richie said, a little uncaring at the moment that the odds were stacked against them— Eddie was literally falling apart in his arms and he wanted nothing more than to _stay_ _there_ until the demonic little shit was in one piece again.

Eddie wasn’t having it.

“They get caught in the deadlights and this all ends up for nothing,” The brunet snarled at Richie, more than a little annoyed at his apathy at the dire situation before them. And, as luck would have it, just as he spoke, he heard a roaring battle cry from multiple voices ring through the cistern, all headed in the thickest direction of the fog. “You _really_ think they _aren’t_ gonna end up floating just like _every_ other person who tries to go near _It,_ Richie? Because newsflash, dumbass, it happens _every fucking time!”_

Richie’s brows had been gradually creasing in annoyance as Eddie spoke, until finally he grabbed the smaller man’s cheeks and pressed them together. “You think I don’t fucking _know that,_ you stupid little fuck?! I’m sitting here trying to think of a way to keep them out of said deadlights _without_ either of us getting absorbed too, and you bitching at me isn’t doing jackshit to help me!”

Eddie paused, staring at Richie for a moment before something twinkled in his eyes. “That’s it.”

Richie’s face dropped in confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Ugh,” Eddie groaned, weakly swatting away Richie’s hands from his face, “You really are stupid as shit. All we have to do is make _It_ think we’re double teaming the humans just long enough to distract him for the humans to complete the Ritual.”

Richie looked dubiously at him.

“Plan A or Plan B, douchewad?”

Richie grit his teeth and glowered. “Plan B.”

…

Charging headfirst had _not_ been a good battle plan. It was _never_ a good battle plan— Why the hell did he let Eddie think charging headfirst was a good idea?!

Oh, right. _He hadn’t._ Eddie had gone and done it anyways because no one in the Losers Club beyond himself and Stan seemed to ever really add _logic_ to the complex equation that was fighting an interdimensional spider from space that fed on human flesh to feed its unborn child.

Good god was he going to need more therapy after this. Maybe another dog, too. A retired service dog, maybe. Name him after Mr. Chips, or something like that.

“Mike, for Christmas this year, I want one of your bolt guns that we had last time! Would be _real_ useful if we have to deal with any other demonic space spiders!” Richie called from his left— Or was it his right? He couldn’t tell— The fog had left his mind wandering, and for a minute Mike was confused on how Richie was even able to concentrate enough through the stuff to _think,_ let alone form a sentence.

“Focus, Richie!” He yelled back, only to freeze when he realize the fog was gathering and compressing on itself. Folding and mixing and slowly darkening until the waves of once grey fog began to churn and mix into an inky black, slowly building up into a terrifyingly familiar shape. “Shit— Guys, incoming!” The librarian yelled, going to move forward and make an attack when he felt something wet and hard basically barrel him over.

“Stay down and close your fucking eyes until we say so!” Well, that certainly _sounded_ like Eddie, but it definitely _wasn’t_ Eddie. At the very least, not the Eddie that Mike knew and had grown up with.

Shit, was that the Neibolt one? He could have sworn that thing had been torn to shreds and been considered down for the count, but considering he couldn’t get up and was being ordered to keep his eyes closed, he just had to trust that it was for the right reason— He didn’t _want_ to trust the Neibolt Eddie and Richie, but they were the best source of information around.

If whatever the hell they were doing made completing the Ritual easier, then he would do what it took.

…

“I fucking _told_ you they would end up in the deadlights!”

“Eddie, _now_ is _not_ the time for a fucking _‘I told you so!’”_ Richie was _not_ in the mood for that shit as it was, but _especially_ not _now,_ when they were about to possibly _die._

“Fuck off already and _throw me,_ you stupid sack of maggot shit!” Well, being insulted was certainly one way to get chucked towards a deadly creature that had already basically torn you apart.

As soon as Eddie hit the spider’s back, he gave a triumphant cry, signally to Richie that Mike needed to complete the Ritual _now_. The small brunet began to thrash and tear at the demon, grinning violently when he heard three gasps and coughs from below just as _Its_ attention shifted to him. The Losers were free, and now all he had to do was distract _It_ long enough to let them complete the Ritual—

 _Oh fuck_.

An ungodly scream rang through the cistern, loud enough that some of the icicles that had managed to survive the disastrous crash of Pennywise’s stolen knick-knacks were completely shattered and freed from the metal gate that hung above the cistern like some unholy, rusted gate to hell. Acidic blood was left to spray across the spider’s back and burn into it as Eddie was left writhing in agony, trying not to clutch to the few tendons and strings of muscle that were left of his right arm— His arm had been absorbed back into Pennywise.

 _“Kill it!”_ He bellowed, his voice demented and unhinged like that of a banshee— He was on the verge edge of completely losing it, and it showed.

As he was finally flung from _Its_ back like a rag roll, landing on the moist concrete floor of the cistern with a horrifying crack, he began to laugh madly, clawing at the ground with his left arm and trying to turn on his side so he could try and clutch to his right shoulder again.

So much for a distraction.

…

“Do it now!” While it was unclear which Richie had said it, the meaning was still heard loud and clear— Attack until you can’t anymore.

Bill, the human Eddie and Richie and Ben all charged for _It_ like angry bulls, Bill and Eddie managing to cripple _It_ to its metaphorical knees while Richie and Ben went from behind to crack the baseball directly against the offending deadlights, his eyes wrung shut until he felt something wet hit him. The last of the remaining fog seemed to clear away at that, which he took as a sign that the deadlights themselves were no longer able to be used, and the foul-mouthed comedian gave a chagrin grin.

“Mike!” The curly-haired man called, rolling out from underneath Pennywise’s thrashing form and instead skidding back over to his Eddie and Bill, Ben hot on his tail. “Now!”

Mike, who had been left alone with the Neibolt Richie, nodded, watching as the doll sprinted behind the other three Losers in his Eddie’s direction before gritting his teeth. “You’ve killed enough,” He hissed before charging, a jagged scrap of a metal support beam in his hands. Just as he neared _It,_ watching the spider rear up to attack him, he stepped back, instead watching as the spider froze in place, suddenly impaled by the _other_ half of aforementioned jagged metal beam.

The Neibolt Richie stood on the spider’s back, breathing heavily with his Eddie on his back. “Tear it out.” He called, jumping down from the still-writhing form and watching as the five original Losers scrambled to roll _It_ on its back and force out the heart, Mike ending up doing the actual deed with the other four’s help.

All that was left was to destroy it, and Pennywise would be dead.

For good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shit has been rough but this story WILL be complete by the one year anniversary of its publishing (December 26th, 2018) so yall will be FED. I promise.


	14. Removal of a Hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pennywise has been killed, and the Turtle comes to find the aftermath of the battle with Pennywise— He grants Eddie and Richie what they didn’t realize they yearned for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have tissues ready :))))

The room had yet to stop spinning for Eddie-- He had watched as his demonic counterpart of his husband and self shatter the deadlights that he had been trapped within _just_ as he had started to rise from the ground. Thus, he awoke to a hard crash into the slushy, grey-water-coated concrete that made up the floor of the cistern. Distantly, he could hear what seemed to be Mike grunting and struggling with something, but for the life of himself couldn’t manage to move.

As his hazy vision slowly began to clear and sharpen, the once blurry blob of grey and black just beside him started to render into a familiar shape-- The same shape he fell asleep next to every night and woke up next to every morning.

 _“Richie,”_ His voice felt foreign in his own ears as he forced the words out, despite his tongue feeling heavy and swollen within his mouth like a lead weight. Trying to force his limbs to pull himself up so he could make his way over to his husband and figure out what had happened to them, he instead discovered that he could do nothing more than wriggle pathetically, akin to that of a newborn.

 _His babies._ Lucille and Michelle-- His precious little girls that he had fought so hard for and struggled so much to bring into the world-- They needed him just as they needed Richie; they needed their loving parents. And Eddie couldn’t do that if he was stuck on the ground of the dank, dingy sewers that were probably crawling with all sorts of different diseases and such that he surely would have thrown up just imagining if he were still thirteen.

Frustration began to burn deep in his chest at his lack of ability to _move, dammit--!_ “Richie,” He croaked out once more, struggling to finally all but force his right arm forward before repeating the action with his left arm and dragging his body forward with every ounce of willpower his tiny form had. He could feel something warm trickle down his temple and winced as blood coated the left side of his vision with its crimson overlay. The fall had done a worse number on him then had originally been felt, and in the back of his mind, he knew once the adrenaline wore off, that head wound would be felt full force.

But fuck that-- Upon the second call of his husband’s name, said comedian twitched, a strangled groan escaping him from where he lay face-down, part of his curls and head cushioned by a thick pile of muddy slush.

“Thank fuck,” Eddie laughed weakly, pulling himself forward in the same army crawl position once more, wincing when he felt pain ring up his right hip, similar to that of rugburn or a raw patch of skin being irritated-- He probably scraped it up trying to drag himself next to his still barely-conscious husband. One more rough force forward was all it took before he was next to Richie, the brunet slowly pushing himself up on shaky hands until he was on his knees. After taking a moment to clutch to his head to try and ignore how the cistern began to sway and spin violently in circles around him, he swallowed down the nausea that came with the feeling before taking Richie’s head into his hands, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that other than a few scrapes to his nose and forehead, the older man was unharmed-- Seems the slush had lessened any severe facial impact.

Richie’s glasses easily could have shattered upon impact with the ground and blinded or massacred his face with shards of glass, so Eddie was beyond grateful to see such hadn’t happened.

“Baby,” He finally whispered once he had stroked the dirt and water smearing the freckled man’s face away with his thumb, “Wake up. I need you to wake up, Richie. We have to get out of here,” He whispered, something in the back of his head telling him that, just like the hazy fog the deadlights had held over him that was now starting to dissipate from even the farthest corners of his mind, _It_ was starting to die as well.

Richie twitched awake, one eye slowly cracking open before the other did as well. “E’s?” He slurred, his eyes still glossy and confused as Eddie smiled weakly at him in relief.

“Yeah, bubba, it’s me,” Eddie said, ignoring the pain still aching throughout various points on his body to instead help the taller man sit up. Richie swayed in place, looking a little pale before Eddie hugged him close. “You’re okay,” The smaller man whispered, his voice starting to grow high and hiccupy as he realized that either one of them could have been seriously maimed, possibly even killed. Sure, they had accepted the risk when the came back to the sewers, but now the full gravity of the situation was hitting him full force.

“‘M okay,” Richie nodded, slowly starting to come back to himself. He stayed still for a few moments,m each second ticking by like hours before he forced his own sluggish limbs to wrap around Eddie’s torso and hug him back, on hand snaking up to cradle Eddie’s head against his shoulder. “‘M okay, baby. You don’t have to worry anymore. ‘M okay,” He whispered, feeling Eddie quiver against him.

“I was so scared, Rich,” Eddie whispered, “So fucking scared I had lost you…. We… We were in the deadlights and I-- I couldn’t _find_ you, Richie…. I thought _It_ had gotten you or something…!” The man was near tears from his distress-- They had nearly lost each other, for fuck’s sake!

“I know, baby, I know,” Richie whispered, “I couldn’t find you either. But I’m here now, and we’re okay, alright? We’re okay.”

Eddie could only muffle his wet sob of varying emotion into Richie’s shoulder in response.

…

As soon as _Its_ heart was out, Richie could feel it. His skin, already shadowed with varying severities of cracks, began to crumble against its own weight. The doll fell to his knees, wincing at the screeching sound of ceramic shattering against the concrete as soon as it connected with the grimy ground. Eddie was still practically dead weight in his arms, the smaller demon’s lacerations and multiple bloody wounds now leaking red from the barely-coagulated black blood that was trying so fiercely to keep him in one piece.

They were falling apart.

“Fucking hell,’ The doll laughed bitterly, letting himself slump limply against the wall just behind them, “Didn’t even get to tell our kids I actually loved ‘em. They’re all alone upstairs dying and don’t even have their parents at the damn side to coddle them as it happens.” As he spoke, he let the last of his energy and strength to pull Eddie’s limp form up against him, resting his forehead against Eddie’s own.

“You were always such a pain in my dick. Up ‘til the fucking end…. Wouldn’t even let me try and do something right for once. You wanted to play human one too many times and this time I let you, and we both fucked it up. Dragged two innocent little things that I actually give a shit about into it now, too. And now they’re dying all alone without us-- Probably screaming their fucking lungs out for you. Mich might even be crying for me-- God knows all they ever wanted was you. You spoiled them rotten and managed to rot my heart too in the process, you piece of shit,”

“I didn’t even give a shit about you before the brats… Now you can’t even hear me and I’m waxing on like some sappy human to their dead lover in a tragedy or some shit. God, why the hell couldn’t you have just fucking _listened_ to me for once in your goddamned existence so you could at least fucking _hear me_ when I tell you I actually think I love your annoying ass while we’re dying?!”

Oh.

Well. That was just it, wasn’t it? Love. He loved Eddie. Sure-- They’d had to do it for ten years prior thanks to their human selves, but it was as much of love as winter was on the sun. They’d hated each other and fucked purely for the pleasure-- Not once had they seen each other as anything but a dick to ride or a hole to fuck. Then the twins had come along and wormed a hole into Eddie’s heart and into Richie’s soon after-- And now here they were.

“Turtle would fucking love this shit,” Richie laughed wetly, feeling Eddie’s body slump against his chest as his arms began to shatter and fall under the weight, “A part of _It_ actually learned to love something without killing anything but itself.”

As his consciousness began to haze and blur, he felt something wet stream down his cheek and choked out another laugh at that. He was crying-- Actually crying real, human tears. “We could have had seventeen more fucking years with the brats, you little shit,” He whispered, knowing damn well all it would have taken was seventeen more _seconds_ with his demented little family for him to tell them that he _did_ care, and would have done anything to keep them around.

“But we saved the real them.” Eddie’s voice, _his_ Eddie’s voice, was the last thing he heard as the last of his very existence was snuffed out.

…

Mike really hadn’t meant to overhead the gut-wrenching last words of the demented versions of two of his best friends. Honestly, he had just been trying to figure out how to connect with the Turtle to determine whether or not _It_ was truly dead or not.

 _“We could have had seventeen more fucking years with the brats, you little shit,”_ He heard the doll speak, his eyes widening as he saw the thought-to-be-lifeless form of Eddie, still clutched close to the doll’s chest socket, twitch just slightly.

 _“But we saved the real them,”_ The smaller demon’s final words had Mike stiffening and shuddering at the raw emotion that hit him _hard._ They had fought for their children-- Not just _their_ children, but for the human versions-- So they would be able to grow and thrive and lead happy lives with their parents.

Swallowing down the lump of emotion that rose in his throat when he saw the two bodies collapse against the wall, the librarian turned his head to instead find the real Richie and Eddie cradled just as close to each other, Eddie pressed against Richie’s shoulder and Richie holding him as if he were the sun and he was nothing but the vastness of space, clutching to him desperately in fear that he would disappear if he let go.

“Fuck,” Mike whispered, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he realized that _both_ versions of Richie and Eddie loved each other more than anything else in the world. Just as his mind began to cloud over, all he could think of was that the demonic Richie and Eddie were far more human than they were _It,_ and that they too deserved a chance at a life of happiness with their children-- At the very least, they had literally killed themselves to save the human versions of their children.

That was the most selfless, human act any being could perform.

…

The only thing that finally had Eddie and Richie dragging themselves away from each other’s embrace was the deafening thud of something hitting the floor. Eddie’s head shot up out of Richie’s shoulder on high alert, only to see Mike, on the ground and partially cushioned by a pile of clothing debris from Pennywise’s pile of stolen items.

“Mike,” Richie called, “You okay?”

 _“It’s_ dead, guys,” Mike responded, sounding rather winded. He’d had enough contact with interdimensional space demons for one lifetime, and he honestly just wanted a hot shower, a cup of tea and maybe a nice fire to curl up in front of before napping for a day or two. Vaguely, he could hear Bill and Ben give a breathless cry of relief, while Eddie and Richie settled for damp eyes and hoarse croaks of delight, the balls of emotion in their throats audible even without words.

“Did the Turtle confirm it?” Ben finally ask, slowly stumbling to his feet and helping Bill up afterward, the two of them making their way over towards Richie and Eddie’s seated forms. Mike gave a grunt of affirmation as he slowly got to his feet and went over to the four, pulling them all into a hug.

They had done it.

“I-It’s f-fuh-finally over,” Bill spoke, clapping a hand onto Mike’s shoulder before hugging him once more. Mike had taken a stand and stepped up as the leader-- He had proven himself to be a far better thinker on his feet, and no one had been hurt beyond a few scrapes here and there. “You s-suh-saved us, Mike.”

“They saved us,” Mike corrected, motioning to the crumpled pile of bodies that were once the Neibolt Richie and Eddie, “Without those two, I never would have been able to get _Its_ heart out. They sacrificed themselves and their kids for us. They were as much a part of _It_ in the end as we were.”

Eddie turned to look at the two unmoving figures, biting his lip and trying to ignore the stubborn sting of tears burning in his eyes. “They really did just want their babies to be happy… Even if they weren’t necessarily theirs.” He whispered, wincing as the raw emotion hit him hard. He turned his head away from the scene, instead just pressing his head back into Richie’s shoulders so the others wouldn’t see him cry-- He had done far too much in front of that when they were kids.

Richie took a deep breath, feeling a similar emotion claw stubbornly up his throat and threaten to choke him with its intensity. “And we’ll do right by them for that, baby,” He whispered to Eddie, pressing a kiss to the smaller man’s soft, chestnut brown hair.

“W-wuh-we’ve still g-guh-got to get back h-huh-home first, R-Ruh-Richie,” Bill pointed out, offering a hand out to the man to help him an Eddie up. But just as Eddie and Richie had risen to their feet on shaky legs, Eddie a little worse for wear thanks to a few nasty bruises and scratches on his hips and knees, Richie caught something shift out of the corner of his eye.

“What the hell?” He raised an eyebrow-- Didn’t the Neibolt Eddie’s corpse only have one arm the last time he looked?

“What?” Ben asked warily, immediately eyeing _Its_ corpse as if it could still come back to life and attack them again at any moment.

“Didn’t that Eddie lose his right arm?” Richie asked. Though Eddie was cushioned against the doll’s chest with his left side facing the five Losers, there was a peek of pearly-white skin, nearly translucent in color, now standing start against the socket of Richie’s chest.

Eddie paused, looking over at the two before looking back to the other four, who were all now staring at each other with similar looks of confusion. As they turned back to look again, this time, the ball socket at Richie’s chest was now smooth skin, a bit darker than Eddie’s but also considerably smeared in what seemed to be drying black blood. “Okay I _know_ he didn’t have a chest a second ago,” The brunet said.

“What the fuck is happening?” Richie finally asked what everyone else had been thinking.

“Oh god please tell me they weren’t human corpses that got turned and were just being used as puppets.”

“Well, Ben,” Richie deadpanned, pulling Eddie back closer to him when he saw the tiny man grow a bit green in the face at the mere idea, “Thanks for that mental image.” Ben just gave him a look, opening his mouth to retort before Mike suddenly cut him off with a gesture to his lips.

“Do you hear that?” Mike asked after a moment of quiet, the other four looking at him in confusion. “Listen!” The librarian hissed softly, pressing his finger to his own lips until the four Losers quieted down and did as he instructed. After a moment of tense quiet, both Eddie and Richie went stiff as a board, the two sharing mirrored looks of outright horror.

“Is that--?” Ben started to speak but was cut off.

“The twins.”

As soon as the words were in the air, both Eddie and Richie were sprinting in the direction of the sound, which coincidentally was coming from one of the many piles of debris scattered around the cavernous cistern. Eddie, after tearing through a considerable pile of what seemed to be a lot of baby clothes and toys, found a rather familiar-looking bassinet. He swore he had seen it somewhere before but was a little distracted at the moment by his need to find his children. How the hell had they even gotten here, to begin with?!

As soon as he found them both swaddled in very different clothes and barely any bigger than they had been when they were born, everything suddenly clicked into place.

These weren’t _his_ babies.

“Oh shit,” Richie whispered from beside him, recognizing the bassinet and outfits just as Eddie carefully scooped up ‘Luci’, who was flailing about and screaming _desperately_ for _anyone_ to console her terrified cries.

“Get Mich,” Eddie whispered, holding Luci to his chest and slowly looking over to where the Neibolt Richie and Eddie were-- They didn’t even look the same anymore. Gone was the ball sockets and joints and ceramic shards around the two, as were the numerous blackened cuts across Eddie’s skin. As he heard Richie scoop up Mich, he sniffled, realizing now what had happened. “Richie,” He whispered, “I think we need to give them back to their parents.”

Though confused, Richie followed his husband’s lead, slowly walking across the cistern and cooing soothingly to the still crying Michelle, who was curled up on herself against Richie and trying to hide against him as much as she could. As soon as they approached their demonic selves, Eddie kneeled down first, gently placing Luci within his estranged counterparts arms and motioning for Richie to do the same.

As Eddie stepped back, pulling Richie with him, he felt a sob build up in his throat when both Luci and Michelle quieted, a large palm having moved over both of their little backs.

“What the fuck?” Richie whispered.

“The Turtle knew that they deserved the right to raise their kids,” Eddie explained quietly, sniffling again when he saw his mirrored version pull both tiny forms closer to his chest, “He gave them a chance.”

Richie perked up an eyebrow. “A chance?”

“A chance to be human, RIch,” Eddie huffed, wiping at his eyes with the heel of his palm, “A chance to raise their babies just like we will…. They get to be an actual family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	15. To Build a Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The house on Neibolt Street never sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks @ America for not having Internet for two days :))

“Are you sure we’ll be okay?” Eddie asked Richie, holding a four-month-old Michelle against his chest while Richie helped Eddie get the infant’s shoes on. The taller man already had Luci strapped against his chest in a sling, the slightly older infant looking a bit sleepy in the summer heat. Though it was June and not yet too hot, both twins had proven themselves to be little bugs to their parents. Neither girl seemed to be able to stand even half an hour outside in the warm sun before they grew sleepy. While adorable, Eddie didn’t want two cranky twins to disturb the other two when they arrived.

“Eds, you know they’re still half scared shitless that they’ll disappear at any second. They never really care anyways when we bring them stuff,” Richie reassured, kissing his husband’s cheek as Eddie gave a deep sigh before grabbing the bag of baby clothes and toys they were bringing. They usually drove, but it was a beautiful day outside after almost two full weeks of a nonstop downpour, and Eddie would be damned if they didn’t enjoy the beautiful day for what it was.

“Rich, don’t stay stuff like that. They’re still… Learning. Honestly, I’m still half convinced _It_ will come back again someday, even though we saw it die right in front of us. They didn’t think they were going to get a chance, but they did. Don’t tease them about it.”

Richie just gave his husband a good-natured smile, which the brunet couldn’t help but return. “Spaghetti, you know I would never really make fun of them for that.”

“You did last time,” Eddie reminded.

“That was a love-poke because other you started hissing at us like a cat for offering to change his Luci while he fed Micky.”

“Richie, the other you was about ready to kick your ass for freaking him out!” Eddie huffed, only to deadpan when Richie just gave him a shit-eating grin.

“He’s always freaked out and I always need my ass beat.”

“Richie!”

…

Waking up had been something neither Eddie nor Richie had ever expected. And yet, they did— Every morning, wailing twins with hungry stomachs and wet diapers that needed tending to awakening them from what they always subconsciously feared would be their final day.

“Would you stop fucking worrying for five damn minutes? You’re going to freak them out with all your pacing,” Richie snapped his fingers in front of Eddie’s face, the smaller man just hissing at his boyfriend in annoyance.

“Fuck off! What if they come in here and we just blip out of existence? The Turtle could decide to change his mind and have only one set of us on Earth again!” Eddie had been freaking out for a solid hour now, as seeing with a miraculously restored Neibolt home that was actually able to be safely lived in, they had been able to, at the very least, gain a few more modern technologies from their original selves to keep in contact in case anything happened. “It didn’t happen any of the times before, but it still could!”

They couldn’t really call the other Eddie and Richie their human counterparts anymore, because, well— They were human too.

“It’s been four months, idiot. You’ve been freaking out for four months straight. Learn to enjoy that we actually got a damn chance and use it. Now c’mere,” Richie had set both twins in their little bassinet, both girls giving unhappy little squeaks at their parents when they lost the contact and receiving a soothing hush from Richie and a stroke to their chubby little cheeks.

Eddie huffed, crossing his arms and reluctantly letting himself shuffle across the hardwood floor over to where Richie was on the couch. “Don’t fuckin’ call me an idiot for bein’ scared of losing our babies again, asshole. I don’t wanna be away from them ever again, you dickbag.” He grumbled as he sat down, sighing deeply when Richie wrapped both arms around him to make him relax— It unfortunately worked every single time no matter angry the smaller man could get, and sometimes Eddie hated how easily he just melted against the taller man.

“Yeah, yeah, you whiny little brat. Go coddle them and relax. You know how Wheezy gets when you stress out— He starts worrying and then Trashmouth is on my ass about helping us more than they already fucking do.” Richie motioned for Eddie to grab the two infants, who were now both whimpering rather loudly for Eddie.

Eddie sighed once more before leaning over to carefully scoop up each little one, nosing against their foreheads with a gentle hum. “Alright, alright. Calm down. ‘M here. You’re fine. You’re both fine. Nothin’ is gonna hurt ya or get ya,” The brunet soothed, some of the tension bleeding from his stiff shoulders as the babies in his arms quieted down and instead pressed against his chest to listen to his heartbeat. That was one odd thing he had yet to get used to— Actually having a heartbeat. Despite never having had it when he was pregnant with the girls, they both seemed to know his heartbeat and calm down no matter what whenever they heard it. A part of him wanted to think that maybe it was the work of something neither himself nor Richie knew about, but he never really bothered to look into it— If it wasn’t hurting anything, he wasn’t going to mess with it.

“Are you going to tell them when they get here?” Richie asked, Eddie wrinkling his nose with a huff of annoyance.

“I don’t need them fuckin’ worrying even more. Besides, they’d probably ride my ass about how quick it was for it to happen.”

“Not my fault you wanted to celebrate being alive.”

“How was I supposed to know that was how it actually happened?!” Eddie felt his face flush red as he grew defensive about his lack of knowledge pertaining the human autonomy he had acquired.

“Well, considering you knew how it worked the first time, I would have thought you would have known it worked the exact same way for humans.”

“I didn’t realize that _you_ would have them! I thought only Trashmouth and Wheezy could do that and we just followed it like they did!”

“Thought we could do what?”

Eddie hissed in surprise, scrambling back against Richie and nearly knocking both of them over in his attempt to shield the two infants in his arms from the new voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, do you two ever knock?!”

Richie raised an eyebrow. “The door was unlocked and we knocked quite a few times after we texted and called you both.”

“Shuddup Trashmouth, you know we’re still on edge,” Eddie spat out, trying to ignore how his face was now a brilliant, flaming red at being caught off guard.

“You’re always on edge,” The real Richie laughed, helping Eddie set their bags down before sitting on the adjacent couch next to their once-demonic counterparts.

“Richie,” Eddie frowned, lightly knocking at his husband’s shoulder with his own, “Be nice.” With that scolding out of the way, he turned back to the other two. “I see you guys liked the dresses Bev made for the twins,” Eddie smiled at the mirrored version of his little girls. Even with the same parents, the once-demonic infants were already growing to look different than his own twins. While his Luci and Michelle were still a bit tiny for their almost-five-month-old age, they were still bigger than the other Luci and Michelle. His girls were rather independent, and had already started to try and begin crawling, which unfortunately for them was more of adorable wriggling on their baby blankets and lots of squeaking and whining for help.

The other Luci and Michelle were still just as clingy and fearful of everything that wasn’t their mother and father as they were when they had first been born.

“Mmhm,” His doppelgänger hummed from across the couch, “They get hot easily. Still not used to being able to get warm and stay warm so they overheat if we don’t watch ‘em. These clothes actually do a damn good job of keepin’ ‘em cool.”

“Well, that’s good,” Eddie smiled, shifting Luci in his arms and giggling when he felt the infant try to squirm and pull herself up to look at him. “Hi sweet girl. What’s up, hm? Did you hear Bubba talking about your Auntie Bev? Huh?” He cooed, his smile growing wider when the baby gurgled and squealed happily at him.

“Bev’s brat still kickin’?” The Neibolt Eddie received a stern look from his Richie, to which he responded to with a middle finger and hiss of annoyance.

“Yep. She’s going to have a little boy. Hard to think that these two will be almost a year old and they’ll be the big girls when their new baby cousin is born. I can’t stop thinking that they’ll grow up and be walking and talking if I just blink.”

“Ugh, ‘m never gonna want to let them go anyway. Brats are gonna fucking hate me for keeping ‘em with me all day.” Both Richie and Eddie raised eyebrows in confusion at that, to which the Neibolt Eddie quickly realized his mistake, and flushed bright red. “Forget you heard that,” He demanded, his eyes narrowing defensively and body starting to curl over the twins still in his arms on instinct.

“Are you two—?”

“We aren’t connected like that anymore and I didn’t know that was how humans got it to happen, alright?! We didn’t have one of those… Cum-dom things, either! Y’know, whatever those things are that keep the white stuff in… Or, well, out of… Me? You know what I mean!”

“A condom?”

“Richard Wentworth!” The real Eddie hissed, his own face flushing pink as he realized what had just been spilled. “Are you sure?” He asked the other Eddie once Richie had been effectively scolded.

“I haven’t had the monthly-afterbirth-for-a-week twice now and the phone you gave me just kept saying that ‘no period’ meant another baby so… Yeah? I fuckin’ guess.” He heard his Richie snort from behind him, and felt his face draw into a frown, his eyebrows creased in an embarrassed scowl. “Fuck off, you dick! I’m still new to this shit! You try figuring out how to work the phone when you don’t know half the words to being human!” He hissed.

“Hey, Hey,” The real Richie started to intervene, not wanting a fight to break out between the two former demons, “Calm down. It’s no one’s fault. I guess a congratulations is in order, though. You two managed to beat our record if it’s been two months!”

“What record?” The other Richie raised an eyebrow.

“Richie I swear to god if you say anything you will be feeling your regret for as long as it takes for the new baby to come.”

The previously-insane— To be completely honest, he probably was still insane— Eddie laughed loudly at that, grinning over at his original with a snicker. “I think I’m finally rubbin’ off on you, Wheezy.” He smirked.

“I did it first. _You_ copied me,” Eddie deadpanned.

“I did it better.”

…

After the day was completed and Eddie and Richie were settled back down, things were blissfully quiet for once. Richie had just tucked each infant into their crib after reading them a story goodnight, and came back into the bathroom to a rather familiar sight— Eddie, clad in some loose boxers and one of Richie’s too-big sleep-shirts, brushing his teeth at the sink.

“Hi baby,” Eddie hummed to his husband with a mouth full of minty foam, leaning over to spit it out before grabbing the ceramic cup from the side of the sink and filling it with water from the tap before washing his mouth out, “Girls go down okay?”

“Like sleepy little bugs. I’m half convinced every time they see their other selves they try to do everything the other two do and end up wearing themselves out.” Richie nodded, going over to the smaller brunet and wrapping his arms around him just as Eddie sat down his toothbrush.

“You love when they do nothing but cuddle up against you when they’re sleepy,” Eddie pointed out with a small smile.

“Damn right I do, my dear Spaghetti-Head. My little cuddly baby girls are just as cute as their Bubba is. I could just cuddle them and you together forever,” The comedian grinned, leaning down to press a sweet kiss onto Eddie’s lips.

Eddie felt his face heat up, leaning up on his tiptoes to properly kiss back. He winced a little as he pulled away, the residual toothpaste still lingering on his tongue leaving his mouth rather bitter-tasting. “Ugh. Stupid toothpaste,” He grumbled, Richie just chuckling at that and pressing a smacking wet kiss on his husband’s cheek instead, laughing at Eddie’s squawk of surprise. “Rich! I just washed my face, you dog!”

“If I’m a dog, does that mean I get to rut against you like I’m in heat?”

“Out. Go to bed.” Eddie deadpanned, pointing to the door and grabbing the damp washcloth he had used to dry off his face after washing it and wielding it like a soggy weapon.

“Aw, Eds—!”

“I will use this washcloth, Richie.”

“Are you gonna whip me with it, baby?”

_“Out!”_

…

“Brats in bed yet?”

“Gimme a second to pull my shirt up, dickbag, and maybe you’ll fuckin’ find out.” Eddie huffed, crossing his arms over his chest once he had pulled his faded sleep-shirt back up over his shoulder.

“Mood swings already?” Richie groaned in annoyance, deadpanning when Eddie smacked at his shoulder unhappily in protest. “And violence, now, too? What, brat, the new brat making you feisty today?”

“Quit callin’ them brats, Rich. You know I fuckin’ hate when you call them that,” Eddie hissed, stalking back over to their room from across the hall where the twins’ nursery was set up.

“I’ll call ‘em what I want. Considering the shit I call you, doesn’t mean the core emotion changes, too.” Richie deadpanned, carefully closing the door to the nursery before following Eddie to their room.

“Why can’t you, y’know, try to soften up and actually fuckin’ say the word?” At Richie’s slightly uncomfortable look, Eddie scowled. “I’m _not_ waiting for us to nearly have to disappear from existence to hear you say you love us again, cock-for-brains.”

Richie gave Eddie a look, which said brunet returned in his barely 5’3” glory— Arms crossed, lips partially curled in a sneering frown and eyebrows furrowed so harshly his eyes seemed black. After a moment, Richie shook his head, easily going over to the smaller man and pulling him up.

Eddie immediately gave a noise of displeasure, squirming and wriggling before he was dropped unceremoniously onto their bed, his eyes going wide when Richie pinned his arms to either side of his head and left him completely exposed underneath his boyfriend. “F-Fuck off,” He stumbled out, currently a little exposed and vulnerable to whatever the taller man had in store.

“Keep up that nasty mouth of yours and I’ll put it to fucking work. Understand me?” The former-doll hummed, Eddie giving a nod and trying his hardest not to acknowledge the flush of heat that hit his gut _hard_ and left his shorts suddenly a bit damp at the crotch. Richie seemed to catch on to that, raising an eyebrow as he moved his knee to nudge between Eddie’s legs. “You’re wet already?”

“Piss off, dick-breath, ‘m still not used to this shit either,” Eddie grumbled, only to stiffen when Richie’s knee instead ground forward against the clothed, sensitive mound. “Oh _shit,_ do that again,” He whined, his hips trying futilely to grind forward and seek more contact.

“Why should I?” Richie asked mockingly, his left hand gathering Eddie’s wrists together and keeping them pinned above his head while his right hand skimmed down to Eddie’s chest, starting to grope and fondle the still-swollen skin there with a laugh at how the smaller man immediately reacted.

Eddie had always been far more sensitive since he’d had the twins, in every definition of the word imaginable. But now, as a human and carrying again, it basically brought new meaning to the word _sensitive._ “Need it,” The brunet mumbled, starting to breathe heavily when Richie’s hand skimmed lower, finally right at the edge of his hips and cupping over the quickly-soaking mess of his core. _“Fuck,_ Rich— Need it now—!” He hissed.

“Be patient and I might give you a fucking treat,” Richie deadpanned, his hand dipping into the well-worn pair of boxer-shorts and instead cupping over Eddie’s sex once more, watching as the younger man keened and writhed at the sudden contact of Richie’s cool hand over his cunt. “See? Not whining and bitching like a whore in heat will get you rewarded.”

“‘M only a fuckin’ whore because you got me addicted to your cock, asshole—!” Eddie’s breath hitched and cut off when Richie’s thumb suddenly began to rub and grind into his clit without warning, making him arch up and cry out weakly. “Shit—!”

“So it’s my fault you’re addicted to my cock?” Richie teased, knowing damn well it was true but also loving how Eddie’s squirmed when he was forced to admit it. His index and middle finger pressed into the sopping-wet heat of his boyfriend’s cunt with ease, making the dark-haired male give a wolfish grin. “Is that why you’re this wet already when I barely even touched you?”

“Shuddup ‘n fuck me— _Fuck,_ Richie— Need more—!”

“Calm down, whiny brat,” Richie huffed, feeling how Eddie was grinding and squirming on his fingers and growing a bit annoyed— Sure, he knew that, since becoming human, Eddie had become more whiny and needy than ever. But he also knew it was the only way Eddie felt comfortable with revealing his fear and uncertainty about being human— He was just as scared as their twins had been when they had woken up after dying— He just didn’t show it that way.

As Richie pulled down Eddie’s boxer-shorts, he reveled in the sight of his boyfriend’s flushed-red, soaking sex for a moment before he pulled down his own boxers. He palmed at his cock for a few moments, grunting in pleasure at that before he was pressing into Eddie. Eddie, like always, scrambled to clutch tight to Richie’s shoulders and sob out breathlessly as he was filled to his limit and just beyond. He was thoroughly convinced that Richie had been revived with his cock just as large as it had been when he had been pent up.

“You gonna freak out if I move?” Richie asked after a few moments, not wanting to relive their first time since becoming human— Eddie had nearly torn and ended up getting as close as he had ever been to full-out crying. He had just let himself howl frustrated, pained tears in Richie’s shoulder until the curly-haired man had noticed. He had claimed that it felt good until finally Richie coaxed out of him the admission that he had been in pain.

It wasn’t something either of them wanted to experience again.

“Move,” Eddie mumbled, his breath picking up and starting to hitch as Richie began to build a rhythm. The one good thing about being human, in Eddie’s opinion, was that the waterworks were _far_ too easy to come by in his case, and he usually staved them off by pressing his head into Richie’s shoulder whenever they fucked. It was also an ample opportunity to cuddle up against his boyfriend with the excuse that it was that or his stupid human emotions would freak out and make him cry.

Was it necessarily true? No. Did it get him the contact he craved without losing face? Yes.

“Needy little whore,” Richie grunted, giving a ragged breath when Eddie’s legs tangled around his waist to pull him in deeper. “You really need to learn to control your damn emotions, you little shit. You’re clinging to me so tight I can barely fucking move, dumbass.”

“Shuddup and fuck me, Rich,” Eddie huffed, shaking his head when Richie tried to pull back.

“What the hell is your issue today? You woke up this morning clingy as fuck, too. Seriously, it’s killing the damn mood,” The older man wasn’t amused, but he knew if Eddie was _this_ clingy, basically bear-hugging him as he was fucked after practically being a lap dog the whole time their original selves had been there, something must be up.

“The new brat is making me do it, alright, fucker? You bein’ close makes it easier to keep calm.” Just as he spoke, he was rewarded with a harsh thrust that hit him _deep,_ and he moaned raggedly, only to cry out when Richie’s thumb began to stroke and rub at the heavily-swollen bud of his clit. “Oh Fuck— _Fuck,_ Richie—! Harder—!”

“Was that so hard, brat? All you had to do was say you wanted to be a clingy bitch and I wouldn’t have had to be so damn brash with you. You need to learn some damn respect and manners.”

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me,” The brunet didn’t want to be reminded that he was still basically a crybaby that needed his boyfriend around far more often that he ever had before. Instead, he opted to go back for the koala-bear approach, grinding his hips forward as hard as he could while Richie fucked him.

“What, did I hit a nerve?” Richie taunted, only to get no response. Goddammit. “Ugh, are you fucking serious?” He groaned, feeling Eddie’s body go still and sighing deeply. “Alright. Speak. What the fuck is your issue?”

“You’re not the one carrying another brat in an already emotional-as-fuck body, douchebag,” Oh good god, now he was about to start _crying._ _Fantastic._

“What, that makes you _more_ emotional?” Richie groaned, only to pause when Eddie nodded slowly against his shoulder. He sighed deeply, pulling both of them up into a sitting position and keeping Eddie sat in his lap. _“Fuck,_ you’re high-maintenance. Calm down,” He sighed, moving an arm over Eddie’s back to quiet his little freak-out.

“You think I like being a fuckin’ crybaby?!” Eddie grumbled, sniffling a bit and pulling back to glower at his boyfriend. “It’s fuckin’ bullshit! I just want you to fuck me and you’re bein’ a dick about it!”

“To be fair, every other time thus far you haven’t given a flying fuck about me being a dick to you.”

“Shuddup and keep fucking me,” Eddie snarled, Richie just grunting again and fucking up into the delicious heat that was still clutching around his cock in a vice grip. The small brunet began to breathe raggedly and moan once more in pleasure as his boyfriend began to pound up into him once more. “Mm, shit,” He whined softly, “Harder… Need more—!”

“Take what you get and quit whining,” Richie ordered, pressing Eddie back down on the bed and gripping a bit harder to the smaller man’s hips when he felt Eddie’s cunt clench harder around him. “Fuck, you little shit, you can’t rip my dick off anymore. It won’t grow back.”

“I do what I fuckin’ want, asswipe,” Eddie shot back, only to cry out again when Richie hit his sweet spot. Once that was hit, unfortunately Eddie didn’t hold out much longer than a few minutes, the small man writhing and gasping out as his boyfriend brought him to his limit and beyond.

Once Eddie came, Rochie wasn’t far behind him, his own face creasing and drawing into a frown before he came with a low groan of his own. The former doll fucked his hips forward one more time before he was coming hard with a muffled moan through gritted teeth and stilling as well. Eddie was breathing heavily below him, slowly coming back down from his high and staring slowly up at the dark-haired man above him. “Fuck,” He panted softly, “That felt fucking good.” He laughed breathlessly.

“Considering how much you were whining and cry, I would say so,” Richie snorted in amusement.

“Piss off,” Eddie immediately snapped back, his brows creased in a glare.

“You’re still the same as always,” Richie chuckled, pinching Eddie’s cheek and laughing when Eddie bit at his finger.

“You’re a fucking dickbag.”

“And you’re still a cunt.”

…

“Your turn, baby,” Richie murmured against Eddie when the baby monitor let loose a hungry cry from Luci.

“Mm… Five more minutes…” Eddie whined as he sat up instinctively, slowly pulling off the sheets and stretching before he crossed the room. “Stay awake and wait for me please?” He mumbled to Richie as he opened the door, rubbing his eyes. He got a small grunt of affirmation from Richie, and knew it probably wasn’t going to happen. Still, he left the comfort of his bedroom to go to the nursery, finding Luci flailing her little legs about in her crib with her blanket on the floor and her favorite stuffed animal strewn to the other side of the crib where she couldn't get it.

“Aw… My sweet little monkey, did you kick your toy over in your sleep?” Eddie hummed soothingly, leaning over and carefully scooping the infant up, giving her her little stuffed monkey back then grabbing her blankie as well. “There we go, sweet girl. Let’s get you changed and then you can eat, hm?”

As the brunet let himself go through the routine of changing his oldest daughter’s diaper and making silly faces at her to keep her content before going over to the rocking chair and pulling his shirt down, he couldn’t help but smile. “You’re Bubba’s sweet little girl, aren’t you Luci? You and your sister are getting so big… No wonder you two are up half the night looking for snacks,” He smiled as the infant nursed.

Just as Luci had weaned off and had her fill, Eddie could hear Michelle start to whimper and squeak within her crib, seeking food and a fresh diaper just as her sister had half an hour prior. “Shh… Micky, honey, Bubba will be there in just a second. Let him finish burping Luci, okay?” He stood up and gently tucked Luci back into her crib, glad to see the full belly had left the older girl sleepy and uncaring as she was placed back down.

Thus, Eddie was able to scoop up his youngest child and repeat the process, smiling when he saw that she had fallen asleep halfway through her nursing on his other side. “My sweet little mouse, you were still sleepy, huh? Let’s get you burped and back to bed, peanut.” He cooed, shifting the smaller baby to his shoulder to burp her. Just as he stood up to put her back in the crib, he heard a small knock on the frame of the door, and blinked in surprise to find his husband, half-asleep and smiling at his husband and children with a tired smile.

“You comin’ back to bed yet, bub?” Richie groused, scratching at the back of his head and further-musing his disastrous head of curls.

Eddie finished getting Michelle tucked back into bed before crossing the room to hug Richie close, kissing at his cheek lovingly. “I had been kidding about staying up to wait for me, baby. You could have gone back to sleep.” He said, Richie just shrugging and gladly hugging the smaller man close with a kiss to his forehead.

“I know, baby, but then I’m left without feeling you cuddle up when you’re done. You know how much I love when you do that,” The taller man pointed out, making Eddie sigh in slightly-amused defeat.

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Cuddle-Bug. I wanna go back to bed.”

“You got it, Spaghetti-Head,” Richie smiled, easily scooping Eddie up and chuckling when said brunet gave a flustered squeak of surprise.

“At least my hair doesn’t look like a plate of it,” Eddie finally huffed once they were back in bed, the smaller of the two now spooned close to his husband and practically draped over him like a koala.

“You know what they say, baby,” Richie hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to Eddie’s lips, “You are what you eat.”

“Go to bed, Richie.”

…

“Oi.”

No response.

_“Oi.”_

A slight snore.

“Wake up, dick-breath!” There we go.

Richie stirred, raising his head and finding Eddie, sat up and frowning in the low light of the moon. “What the fuck, dipshit?” He rumbled out.

“Will you just look?” Eddie huffed, pulling Richie over to him and showing off what he had ‘discovered’— It was the shell of a turtle, the head currently ducked inside for safety, still-wet and muddy.

“What the fuck did you do, pull it out of the backyard?” Richie snorted.

“No, you idiot! I heard something scratching downstairs when I came back from feeding the twins and found it all tangled up in the big spider web behind the bushes.”

“And you felt the need to wake me up about some stupid turtle because…?”

 _“Because,_ dumbass, it’s a sign!” Eddie hissed, Richie just raising an eyebrow at him incredulously. “It means we’re safe. The Turtle. I freed it from the web, and now it gets to live. Like us. We freed the Turtle from _It,_ so the Turtle saved us!”

Richie just groaned, waiting for Eddie to place the turtle back in the container of water he’d gotten for it before slinging an arm over the former-demon’s waist. “Yeah, fan-fucking-tastic. Now go the fuck to sleep.” He groused, Eddie just huffing at him in response.

The brunet opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Richie dragging him close until they were pressed together, chest to chest with Eddie’s head able to fit right against his boyfriend’s neck. “What the hell are you—?”

“Will you shut up and sleep if I fucking say it?”

“Say— Say what?” Eddie said slowly, now a little confused.

“What you were talking about before, dumbass. About not wanting to have to be almost dying to hear me say it again.”

 _Oh._ “U-Uh— I mean, if you’re acting like jt’s the end of the damn world to say it, you don’t _have_ to—“

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Richie snapped, lacing his fingers into Eddie’s hair and pulling the smaller man’s head up, catching sight of his wide, hazel eyes and giving a small scoff before he was pressing a deep kiss on him. He could feel Eddie stiffen for a moment before his body was going lax and he was kissing back, which was exactly the moment for Richie to put a pause on said kiss. “I love you. Even with your bitchy attitude and shitty face, I love you.”

Well, Eddie had only been rendered speechless a few times in his life, and this was now easily the record-breaker for the longest he had been shocked to silence.

“There, happy now you little fuck—?”

“I love you too.”

Oh. Okay. Well, uh— That— That worked too. Richie suddenly felt a little hot at the cheeks, and huffed, clearing his throat and pressing Eddie’s head against his shoulder. “Yeah yeah, you little shit,” He grumbled, “Now shut up and fucking sleep.”

Eddie just gave a wicked grin. “You’re finally soft for us.” He teased.

“And I will go find maggots in the backyard to cram down your throat if you don’t shut the fuck up and sleep.”

“Is that a _promise?”_

“It will be in a goddamn second, you little shit—!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have a few dedications I’d like to put out now that we’ve reached the end of this story. 
> 
> First, to @onlyreddie on tumblr, and to @trashbitchh on tumblr. Hunter, Ren— You guys have helped me through SO MUCH and for that I can’t thank you enough. You’ve both become some of my closest friends, and for that I cannot thank you enough. I hope I did right by you both in this final chapter.
> 
> Next, to a few people who have commented on basically every chapter of this story since the beginning. @CupidGenie, @trashmouthTM (dearsar) and @kyurere, you guys have been absolutely fantastic readers and your comments kn each chapter are what fueled me continuing the story thus far. Just as with Hunter and Ren, I truly hope I did justice with this final chapter in a story you guys helped me create.
> 
> Finally, to all the readers; THANK YOU! As of this final update, with almost 190 comments, 175 kudos, 25 bookmarks and over 7500+ hits, this story has ‘wormed’ it’s way into a very special place in my heart. Thank you all so much, and have a fantastic new year.


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